When you enter the den, you either eat or you become meat. Because after your eyes have been cleared, you see the African smiling and the other Africans imitating, both reflecting the same root but on different paths. To survive you must stir and blend. Living as the neo black man is tough. You try to stand up but they shoot you down with every hook and arrow they can get (knowingly or blindly).
The renewed mind begs you to return to earth back there where air was free. But the reality in you revisits what lays waiting for you back there. So disfigured, your mind accepts this new abode with a little taste of nostalgic feelings.
We are all the same – black people, but the buffalo soldiers here retract and reassess your blackness when in close contact. There is a heaviness in their eyes, one filled with tales; tales that the blacks back home need to hear in order for them to break free from the box of illusion.