I rise from the mist.

I was born only to return to an enclosure, different from the comforts and warmth of my mother, so ever since I have lived in yearning, me and my fellow humans in circles ever heading, heads held by force beneath the water, struggling for a single breath, my existence prescribed and nothing less.

The days pass by and I can’t wait any longer, my soul is dry, riddled and filled with hunger, struggling to find my path in the mist, every road beneath my feet has a never ending twist, so I keep walking my only companion is a booklist, to better my soul before I reach the purpose.

I received a letter from Tunisia written by a fellow slave, it read dear indigent waste not time on the vote, freedom belongs only to the brave, the smallest source of light guides through the darkest of cave, more then just simple reflection to this example I gave.

I was lost in conversion, when the mailman delivered another letter, this came from an Egyptian, it read dear destitute waste no time, it doesn’t take a whole day to recognise sunshine, with my blood and sweat I took mine, why let the politician make love to your ear, reluctancy only leads to further despair.

Change descends on the atmosphere; something distinct lingers in the Arabian air, I was waiting by the front door, another letter with mailman I was sure, he handed something dripping crimson red, for some reason I shivered from my feet to my head, it came from the land of two seas, it read dear insolvent why live on your knees, wasting time on unheard pleas.

So I sent out prayers to Bahrain, asking the lord for peace before more are slain, yet these people no longer fear the sting, energised by that which they die to bring, I was in discussion with liberty, saying how can I reminisce about holding you, when evade me is all you do, she said you flirt but never wanted me truly, strive for me as I don’t present my self easy.

I couldn’t delay any further, met the mailman on the sidewalk asked him for my letter, he said I have nothing for you today, I talk about Algeria and Yemen hoping my tone hides my dismay, I was expecting word from Morocco and Libya, he replied no news is good news, I said better to see the bullet coming if I was to choose.

I remain restive so I send word to my brother on the handheld messenger, to no avail the media shows nothing but bodies on the desert trail, through the letterbox dropped the long awaited letter from Libya, it read dear impoverished fool, you are nothing but an intoxicated tool, for many years we stayed lost in our tears, now we fight for freedom like our ancestral peers.

That night I slept with a new state of mind, no longer clueless or feeling my way around these prison walls like the blind, I rise from the mist, ignited is a feeling I as human have long missed, the whole world feels the vibration, some watch as their empires crumble, some rejoice and in these events find freedom to be humble, rest assure the truth and the false shall continue to rumble, I rise from the mist, the call of humanity to live in distinction I can no longer resist.

Hamza Egal

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