Sem pretensões, sem referências pseudoliterárias, sem joguetes verbais de grande complexidade, sem autores obscuros de referência, sem nada. Só escrita.
quinta-feira, 12 de março de 2015
Nature
There´s no limit for people
And their pleasure for treason;
If you dig up too much their nature
You see the disharmony of the Real:
People are strange,
Got no mercy,
And if if you look from a certain range
You´ll figure how easy it is
To make people suffer
Using their own weapons.
Even things that seem done for no reason
- They´re predictable
If you insist in understanding
That thing called human behavior
People, nowadays,
They´re in a rage,
And if you burn their bibles,
And rip off their arguments,
And summon their worst desires,
You´ll figure how it is after all:
Everyone seems so full of virtue
´Till worldly needs come and knock
Then you see real people,
Drowning in their hate,
Demanding others´ fate:
A world stably unequal.
It´s no reason to shock:
We're meant to be the same
But since forever
It´s been a game
Of exploitation, self-destruction,
Inescapable delusion
And self-enjoyment
of our endless evil.
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