FOR EAGLES of THE NON-ELIGIBLES
Eagles
Glad to have a home. An address. Good hut, what is the attitude?
As if facing an unpretentious woman full of charm, the old-school memories, in me, drank the words sweet and sour. Then a voice echoed: watch what comes to be. I am in the hut, I am in the hunt.
I drink the challenge cup. I hunt to be shot, drank from the fairy glasses, find you to scratch your back as I want to find scratches in my back. Shakes in my hands shake in my head. Then I heard that hums or that hiss?
the hissing songs of hundred of scratches
It tells how I find you among eagles from the jungle of the non-eligibles. Yet you were born to be grateful. No hunger brings you down. The hissing of songs echoed, slowly, strongly.
Ah, doubt is not the voice that I heard on the song hissed in my ear. In ancient times knights galloping like you, like me, advanced! The fish in the sea swing to keep swimming, dance to where many people have never gone before: together!
They are the songs about the land of the eagles, where there is not only discrimination for the non-eligibles, but there is always a reason not to be pitiful. A hope, much of hopes, hisses wonderfully.
Watch what comes to be!
