Quizás es porque vivimos en la disputa, looking for recognition and power since the first sigh.
In the permanent night, We have integrated the social herd, like hungry wolves able to devour each other if necessary, wanting to dominate.
Hunting, increasingly scarce, is the only thing that matters, always distributed to pleasure by the leaders after having swallowed up everything they could. Impossible to domesticate bloodied eyes, show tenderness.
Ecstatic howls about nothing, they are of those who witness authority fights, crazed, rabid. It is all known, is all that are.
While, the weak and the old, subject, sometimes marginalized, rear sight in silence, imploring the dark to stop this injustice.