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If Walls Could Talk

The Cathedral Wall

By Raul A CabralPublished about a year ago 3 min read
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The Cathedral wall

Oh my God, more than 500 years that I was built, and my stones crumble by the action of time and oblivion. I have heard the priest say that they are going to melt me to make a new wall. How can I shout to these deaf humans that it means a lot for them to remember their history, that I keep secrets of saints, murderers, adulterants and pirates. That I have witnessed the birth of a new world on this side of the Atlantic, that I can speak of the first prayer to Heaven, the first Christian sermon, the first confession of love between lovers, the first political revelation, and the first binding of the corsair Drake in this new land, America.

Leaning back from me, intrigues were urged, assassinations were planned, conspiracies were urged. Here, saints, thieves, and murderers were buried. Leaning on my walls, love was made to their own and other women, on my surface names were engraved, inside hearts of love, and over crosses that warned Death.

Oh my God, if walls could talk, I could tell this people their own history, the history that they ignore, and that is the reason why they repeat the same mistakes. I represent the culture, the alive witness of won battles, loss wars, archived promises, and forgotten commitments.

Oh my God, if walls could talk, I would tell this people that a new wall do not fit in this temple, the mud that join my stones was wet with slaves and native blood, is red like carmine because of that. A new wall in this cathedral it is like transplant a metal heart in a human chest, it is like put a plastic flower in an ancient chines vase, it is like put a mask over Monalisa face, it is hide her immortal smile, it is to kill da Vinci.

Let me collapse better, find in my interior my secrets, the same way that an Mummy autopsy brings the golden pass of Egyptians, or the same way that divers investigator pull from the oceans deeps drowned treasures that talk about the splendor of an fantastic era of glamour and cultural richness.

For 500 years I have resisted earthquakes, hurricanes, wars, riots, pirates pillage, revolutions, and fires. How come that you people are ready to kill me for old and ugly, just because you are not able to note the beauty of the wrinkles of history, which are as beautiful as the fingerprints that remain on the skin of a son after his mother’s hug.

Oh my God, if walls could talk. I would tell this people, that I represent this country, the expansion of the eastern culture, the growing of civilization, the inspiration for troubadours and poets, historians and liars, orators and thinkers. I have listened millions of prays, I have been wet from tears of cheated lovers, people with the heart broken, and happiness tears, also.

Yes, I know that you can see some of my red-bricks though the wholes that time has made to me, yes, the same way that you can see the ribs of a hungry man. Why did not take care of me, why you never understood my value? I feel like a garden that nobody watered and was destroyed because never had a flower. If I could talk, I would tell you that a wall is like love, if you take care of it, love may be eternal, the same way, indifference and mistreatment will kill it.

Wait, do not, please, do not hit me with that metal ball, do not demolished me, let me try to explain, let me try to talk, let me try to defend myself. I am sure that if walls could talk, I would convince you.


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