Each Friday, my dad used to recite the same verse from the Koran, every single Friday,

it was titled The Cave. It describes a wall whose collapse would trigger the unfolding of the end of times.

 

Until now, it is believed that reciting this verse every Friday will keep the wall erect.

Until today, I still believe that my dad can save the world.

A forgotten myth is our vehicle.

 

wall, fence or dam ?

would a structure condition the Apocalypse lest befell forgotten ?

 

a commemorative wall

and a barrier

to prevent ominous demographic sweeping

 

a self or a modern one ?

deprived of its mystic

but rewarded by a new mythical plasticity

 

a real monster

or a divine pet ?

it only appears in the infinite edits of the same story

 

a pleasant or unpleasant journey

in the land

where time

rests

 

PS. “we start to build walls again – to live like walls –  with the same boredom –

the same staleness – our faces as hostile as walls – and our destinies thick,

useless and full of walls.” G. Henein, in The Meaning of Life, 1938