Graffiti

Walking around the next morning, I found the Albacin in a state of repair and gentle existence among the hills of this valley in the Sierra Nevadas. The walls of the hood were crissed and crossed by the dark lines of graffiti, reading out and exclaiming to the world the tragedy and betrayal of our nation. The Coca-Cola Company has dripped its vagrant blood and chemical alimentacion all over the hallowed ground upon which we grow and build. Families living and being in silent stations of fresh flashes and forgotten freedoms...
Skywards eyes are like some simple smiles and everything we wished for becomes a shadow of complacency before the rain.

Bush and Co were born long before the storm they sow, but up till now they desire to ring the bell. And simmering hells boil and burn and righteous justice is no longer spurnned by heels of demon necro peddlers whose sorry songs are but soulful throngs of long sought energy.