From favelas in the hills
we will descend upon you
like a swash -
angry, and yet peaceful in motive.
We will wound your tyranny
and your reign shall bleed to death.
we want our Hugo back;
we want our Chavez.
And so in the night
the light of a distant helicopter
signals the light of democracy;
hope is restored once again.
We move back into our barrios
and return to our communities,
sure in the knowledge
that our constitution shall once again breathe.
But the future will always be uncertain:
it seems the giant above us