My anger and Raving

My anger and Raving I am a spectator of events which you believe the hero. You think you are strong, under your hoods where only pierce your hatred of looks. You are blinded by your feelings extremists. You are dressed in black, because you are afraid to show you. Think you have no pity, yet a sketch terrorizing you. It makes you tremble so it will take you to violence. In your belief, you excel forgetting the sacraments. You are in front of these entries, but stress disturbs you and you are wrong door. Your lack of courage requires you to use this courageous lady. You think you are superior, while you are nothing without assistance. Face your prey is armed only gums and smart pens, your weapons are impatient, leaving your sweaty fingers. The power of your weaponry only cowards use, because you too afraid to face dialogue. Yoke you catch your breath just to leave no other. You pull these people. You feel avenged, when your bullets will give the features and colors for the next edition. You think you have earned in your horrible gesture, but your bloody freedom will give momentum, force in publications. You killed the man, but let him live log of your obsession. Be zero at this point, congratulations moron! You have managed to gather a people, a world, your miserable climb that I hope will remain. Tell yourself that the losers that's you, that up there ones you sent them, punish you, force you to review all their works for eternity. So maybe you finally find the humor of the freedom of expression.