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
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