In Angola they feel prisoners political accused of any crime. They say that it is a democratic regime that it is in the middle of the joy of their functions. The democratic potencies close the eyes and they point that it is like this that it is good, that it is like this that it is made the stability in Africa. Here is the income of the terrorism of which Europe is not gotten to loosen. Who supports the corruption and their dictatorships, in the bottom it is also terrorist without the knowledge.

quarta-feira, 13 de janeiro de 2010

The Epic Poem of the Darkness (99). They remain the ruins of the buildings of the whites. It is the liberation fight.

This endless epic poem

It was black as the wind, the heart, smiles, and love
sky, sun, without colour
and as the water, colourless
now I am predator

The highways are necessary for the humanity's good
For here they are greats for the traffic of occupation armies
It is destroyed later so that the enemy cannot use them
And the populations, that more has to support?

I conserve a string of my melodious voice, full of the lost perfume
of my gagged youth
In my tenuous gestures of chained hands
in an infinite mold grain of sand
Some love to feel (?)
That no longer it remains in my heart. Jasmine without odour

He liked a lot of seeing the sun be born
Now I see my beauty in my smile of sadness
at dusk

He always exists one day. My day
As well as they exist years
and silences
That the infinite thick fog of the time vanishes
and remember me
Ah! Dictators and false democratic
he always exists one day!

No longer I walk, I fly in our contentment
in the airplane of the sorcery of the independence
that they invented
Delay ten minutes in the trips
Our businesses are going well in the airplane of the sorcery
He always comes loaded with things that we traded
I want to be honest but I don't get, they don't leave me

To work?! Do they Treat me how slave
They freed me of everything, they forgot about the slavery
And if he gets sick they abandon me until dying
Without medical aid I should die
Sleep them of the hospitals of the concentration camps
they wait for me
They give to the coast as guideless tides
Angola is a concentration camp with inert bodies
Where the decolonises quarter always one more piece
And the economic growth that IMF divulges to my Angola, mine no, of them, that yes!
He is in you sleep them. It is a growth of morbid slaughter
IMF negotiates contracts of cadaverous numbers with to Angola of the FAMILY

With the beauty it expresses that contradicts the intern
It is as the time to pass that remains of the life the project
The movements in the appeared windows, without pretension of originating
The low description than the eyes see but the senses don't capture

To observe without discerning prognostic dictatorship
Bad government

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