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I am the plague which only the Eagles can obtain.
I am the hunger which can never be satisfied.
You can’t have me, but I am everywhere…

I am the greed which grips the body behind the designer business suit.
I am the loop hole which swims in the pay-day lender’s eyes, as my toxic tendrils reach out and twist the throat of the single, penniless, mother of four.
I am the poison, leaking from your leaders mouth, which smothers the corruption with propaganda pleasantries of a promise for a tomorrow that will never come.

I have existed since man needed me.
I have grown as you have grown, my plague evolving a barrier so impassable that those who created it have forgotten how to be human.
I see them soar,
those who have me.
The golden eagles.
They scour the planet from above
They circle , and inhale me in excess, picking off the dying with an irresistible deal that rips away their souls.
I am power.
And you have created me.
You have abused me.
You have twisted me.
You have distorted me into a sickly version of your own idyllic society.
You watch from your mountain, as the empty corpses give a final gasp of the life you force them to give .
And you take it.
Then you scavenge for more.

You like the view from above the clouds.
The specks below, choke on my malignant fog, stopping their futile cries of “injustice!” before the words can even enter their  throats.
The Golden Eagles sink their talons into my shoulders, with a grip that tightens the more the specks cry.
The Golden Eagles have me.
They will never. Let. Me . Go.