Tears of Venezuela
America enters not as shepherd,
but as wolf cloaked in justice.
You called Chávez tyrant,
you brand Maduro a trafficker—
yet your own markets drink the poison
you pretend to purge.
O America, double-tongued master of shadows,
you strike ships in waters that belong to none,
and proclaim yourself the law.
But power without restraint breeds fear,
and fear sharpens the knives of the forgotten.
The South remembers.
The poor remember.
You beat them, mock them, steal their bread,
and name it order.
Every empire that scorns the weak
will find the weak no longer bow.
Maritime law you violated,
the covenant of nations you broke.
Your hand strikes like a mafia lord,
not a leader of men.
The world watches, trembling—
yet taking note:
the bully tires,
the crowd grows bold.
History writes slowly,
but writes in iron.
Venezuela weeps now,
but her tears are seeds.
And the dog you thought chained forever
prepares to rise.
Remember, America—
every throne is mortal,
and every day of glory
has its dusk.
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