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.

segunda-feira, 18 de janeiro de 2010

The Epic Poem of the Darkness (104). The churches help me in the poverty. They abase me with what don't have, money


The Western hypocrisy disperses for Angola to the rhythm of the big bang
He is very developed, until he already has discipline guaranteed university student
He is as the dogs that also no longer they believe in their owners. Crisis of canine hypocrisy
They bark out very hypocrisy for the thieves
So cynic they are that they fake that they like the food that the owner gives them
And they bark in the best sleep of the night
Pleased in they wake up the owners
They bark out operas
The owners get up agitated, they go for the friends infidels
The hairy tails are anxious. They justify barking out trying to bite the sleepy
owner, faking that it is a thief. Many proprietors noticed of the fraud
No longer they speak to them, they bark out them
Short term a serenade canid will be howled

How do they want him to believe in God?!
I have faith in Great God of the Hunger. When he dies I have her guaranteed paradise
Before there to arrive awaits for a commission of UN to govern me

Kilimanjaro, the legend of King Salomon’s funeral
So much left wisdom, maybe never equalising
I have to penetrate in the bottom of the time and to bring himt to the surface

It is a coaxing institution that is just for friends
He calls himself national propagation of malefactors
The churches help me in the poverty. They abase me with what don't have, money
Even so they insist because or else!.. God that everything sees, it will be very angry and it won't favour me. I enter in the borrowed money to pay what don't owe, like this millstone demands the blessed shepherds. Then hunger, the endless cure
Of remedying of my evils. Young old precocity
Angolan to die of hunger and of diseases
I penetrate the glance in the bottom of my soul and I see:
We arrived the old ones and before the last oh, we discovered that we walked the guideless whole life

I don't know because it is impossible to find a government of wise persons
The governments are as you would fill them, as the casinos
We bet, we didn't get right, we lost
Paradox: populations die to the hunger and the rulers never lacks them food
Another paradox: where there is no food the human mice multiply
Plus other paradox: where the human being is harnessed, diseases and epidemics don't lack
I don't get to understand the reason of the Angolan to build and later to destroy
The time starts to build and to drop
It is that! We didn't consume drink, she consumes us
And the merrymakings, the parties pursue us
The streets paralyzed through where pass are flooded by rivers of alcohol
They seem fish, they get confused with alcoholic bottles
they set afloat it without a destination in the current
Our existence depends on the steams, of the alcoholic volumes
of the spin in the ether
When we say to a possessed to make drunk:
“You are not in conditions of leaving, you can be assaulted. Don't drive your car. The police will arrest you.”
"Oh! I Want there to know! To me nobody mistreats me, he arrests me.”
And they happen. After the steams vaguely extinct, the sorry drunk poor take oath drink never again. They return to the abnormality:
“I will only drink a glass"
Clumsy as plants without water, as toothless satellite dishes

In this to drink, I see children he be born, to play, to grow… to suffer

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