A Novel by Kawika A. Stafford

Chapter 54

The Black Eagle Dream flew high above the devastation that was America. The charred trees and the scorched earth blackened the landscape as far as the eagles eyes could see.
The people, like little ants, while enjoying the comfort of numbers and real estate, had long forgotten to wit; how it was that they had arrived at such prosperity.
They had an ample source of shelter, water, and food.
The other smaller nations, having been displaced; tried everything they could to survive and get along with their arrogatious neighbors.
It was as if the large colony of ants had lost their vision, and could not see themselves as they really are.
Inexplicably, within the hardened casing that lodged their dwarfish like intellect; they had evolved, and became great ones in the imagination of their existence.
And at the apogee of their arrogance, they had stepped out on the sidewalk of relevance, and discovered that they, like their indivisible indigenous neighbors, could not only suffer loss, and pain, but be devastated within the borders of their own country.
Not in some war torn country,
so called third world,
ass backwards,
not
as good
as us, country.
The fire of greed burns out of control.
The world is on fire, getting hotter by the day.
We must abandon our course before we lose all claims to humanity.
For whose to say where we will be tomorrow.
Put your trust in realities, that cannot be devoured by fire.
The Black Eagle Dream
continued on its way,
ascending higher, and higher above the little ants of mankind,
who, for the most part
have lost their reflecting glass,
and
forgotten
their true identity.

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