Venezuela.

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

never sleeps.