FALSE PROPHETS — unootha

BY MOHINI HEWA

Got a beautiful house,

You paid for it all,

Even the neighbours wave when you pull up at the driveway.

But in spite of everything, something feels empty.

The abyss rarely presents itself abrubtly --

(Like birth does.)

-- It's early morning fears, stomach cramps and palpitations.

Tense necks and

Cold sweats,

Pinched lips and

Clenched fists.

From the teary-eyed, tangled hair, beast's mouth comes

Muttered words blurted out in regretful tones.

You think, suspiciously: "It was way too easy".

They told you it was gold, to lure you in.

Alarmed by your allure, you were designed to win.

The abyss that started from within, slowly,

yet, swiftly, cornered you.

The oil has ran out,

The olive tree's dried up,

Darkness is here, swallowing you alive.

Is that the sound of bomb blasts?

You are trying to fast --

(But the devil is loose.)

-- To remember things from the past.

You broke the praying circle to go on adventures,

The wind whispered, seductive, in your ears:

"You can have all you want,

your wildest desires."

From fear of censure you followed false lights for centuries.

One step after another,

Stone after stone,

Your concerns arise - that it was you, all along,

That chose that path.

You built a protective wall around yourself until you were trapped in your own flesh with no signs of death.

Succumbed to peer pressure, shouting: "IT'S MY WILL!"

And now you're all alone,

And you're physically ill.

Followed the broad road, til the chaos is out,

With no way to go back, now you're full of doubt about

The roundabout

route,

Which is actually a cul-de-sac.

And, now, they won't accept

your money

back.

Mohini Hewa is a visual artist and screenwriter born in the 90s & raised in France by a single mother of Algerian-Egyptian descent. Through her collage and experimental art, she explores her multi-cultural background, trying to piece the puzzle back together and answering the big "who am I?" question.

Poem edited by Rawa Majdi

Collage reviewed by Kamelia Bourahla