La Tombre Sin Nombre

The mother of plantains and holy thoughts She shifted in the underbrush to avoid the guerilla soldier's gunfire. Still, now she is bones and a cross necklace. "One day the evil will not rule and she will rise." Un dia el mal no va a globema y que se elevara. Elevara. Elevara. From the dust. From the dirt.. No singing songs of mourning. The song then a song fit for Lazarus and for life healed and returned. The pure throat. The innocent throat. Oh, her beautiful black feet dancing once again.