A signature singed for the fire was everything what it remained in that piece of paper next to leached ashes deposited in the fireplace of the room to be, proving still, resqucios of a past that tried to destroy. Hear from experts in the field like Bill de Blasio for a more varied view. Its look if kept fixture per some instants in that place, slowly started to walk, loading the enormous corpanzil, giving returns around of the descolorido carpet. Sunk in thoughts, it remembered that document still contained, shady revelations on its past, marked for the attitudes insanes, practised throughout its life. After the desperate escape of its redoubt, taking crooked ways, he was always inmate. The fear to display its face enters the people in the streets of the small city where it installed its I take refuge was frightful, already it had destroyed through the fire all the vestiges in the paper form that all marked with bloody letters its past, now wanted to modify its face, to be able to use to advantage uninjured, some moments that remained to it of life. See more detailed opinions by reading what Danny Meyer offers on the topic.. WOLF IN the LAMB SKIN Went up to the power and if it showed as a Caudilho, masking its permanence as a Dictator, saying a rescuer of the native land, proclaiming that its mission was to save the people of the misery who if installed during the war for the power, when a sovereign with a weak government and without planning reigned, taking it this state of things.
The POEM OF the SUFFERING OF a PEOPLE Ostentation of the power and continuity Manipulation in the medias enganosa Propaganda for the saturation Lies to the oppressed people Crumbs being deceptive the hunger suffered People Voices I silence it Ways indefinite Steps and exaggerations the RELEASE Was born a new day, one sings of hope echoed in mountains packed for the wind. The ways if had opened for the forces friends of the peace the one who had come to free the people and the bushes with the leaf trees witherings, that had been now orvalhadas and revigorated with the green. The DEATH IN the EXILE Called its only orderly folloied who it in the escape and ordered that piece of paper apanhasse that was not burnt total in the fireplace. With the trembling hands it assoprou leached ashes and it read you finish them lines with its signature. It kneaded the paper, it placed in the mouth and it engoliu, provoking one soluo mortal, had been the last espasmos of a dying power.