The world is our fight.- Written from a broken tricolor.

Hello Steemians friends, today I show you a little story of my authorship. I am interested in sharing it with you because the incentive of this writing has left a great mark on me and many people in my country, I can not help but leave tears and nostalgia in each of your words. Although this off topic I tell you (although this is not a secret for anyone), my country is agonizing, its heartbeat is fading, its people are becoming ghosts. Many of us have opted as the last alternative to flee for a better tomorrow, my example; Venezuela, the only country I knew, my home, my root, the birth rate of many who like me have left part of our soul there, in Angel Falls, in the Sierra Nevada, in Roraima, in the Médanos de Coro, in its ocean, in its rain and in its sun.

---

Venezuela is the name of a strong and courageous woman, who has given life and upbringing to people with values and fighters, who has an ostentatious flora in her mane, fauna cradled in her belly and ecosystems intertwined in her legs, snow in her breasts and a tricolor in her face, and her eyes, sign of hope and benevolence are stars. At this moment my beautiful Venezuela suffers, she is desperate, her children are forced to leave, she is no longer able to shelter them or protect them, she cries blood and her eyes are cloudy, her smile has been replaced by a grimace of pain, a grimace that we have all adopted, tears that we all water for her, our Venezuela is not in a position to rise alone nor do we have the will to help her. We have been let go so as not to return and miss her, yearning every day to be able to give back time, left to chance knowing that our country is such a rich and abundant country and yet we can barely survive in it. We are wounded, we are far from everything a family or a love represented, we are shouting for the freedom of our dreams, and we ask ourselves with tears in our eyes: How long, Venezuela?

Expressing more than words what I felt as I wrote this, I leave you my text below:

The world has become chaos. A world where people don't believe in anyone, where you don't believe in yourself. Where we are all corrupt, even those of us who do the right thing. Where families and unity are left behind, where we drink sweat and glory and feed on anger and glare. Where the enemy is the same for all and we fight them as cannibals to snatch away what was once a home, where we replace the heat of a bonfire at Christmas with the cold edge of a knife and the sense of well-being of a coffee with the metallic taste of blood in the mouth. The soft song of the birds and the carols by bombs and roar; storms and fire. Where they all deserve to die holding hands with someone they love, and have their greatest achievement written on their tombstones, even if their greatest achievement was to fall into battle. Where we have a fixed target, the one whose flesh we will tear out with our fingernails and devour like wild beasts, where we will not rest until nothing but dust remains, where we will not surrender to the circumstances imposed by those cursed ones. Where today we fall and tomorrow we rise. We are blood and pain, will go and famine, brightness and euphoria. We will not yield, we will not surrender, we move as one, and nothing in this world will surpass our battle cry, we leave a homeland to become a constant struggle against hostiles. Because we will never be defeated, and we will not knee on the ground yet. Until the last of us dies with an echo of force in our chest. Until we can truly be at peace.


About the images:
It's about images taken in 2017, a time when there were strong protests in Venezuela and both fear and death hovered in the streets. The image is not of my authorship in its entirety, I used it some time ago for a school project, I had it in the computer so I do not have the links to the sources, but if you want to know more you can visit here and here.

Thanks for reading! I invite you to stop by my blog @anaklusmos and support my content, see you in a next post!