Writing on Rock,…then in Blood.

The Instinct of man;

to think, to write,… to leave his mark.

Ages come, ages go… man finding newer ways on the go.

Still however, it remains as it is…

Like strides in the sand, or as finger-drawings at the sea-shore,…

man’s mark washed up, clearly and without a trace, by the ocean tides.

I – of no repute, decided to try it by myself. …

but this time on rock… but for faith even, i wouldn’t ┬áhave avoided what man had tried to do…

then again, for my motive, selfish it was not.

I was done with a word, but saw nothing.

“Even sand would be better… ” this I thought… then again, rock would last.

Man had always sought to find the perfect tool for the sand… but never thought of changing the location to yield a lasting mark.

I continued on to a phrase… But in fact, null was the exact.

remembering whose mark,… remembering the cause of this pursuit …

I went on to do…what the rest of man thought as a boo.

My finger strode on as faith carried on… on and on till the sentence which was the 3rd.

then I saw it.. It seemed to drip at first.

then shadowing my invisible prayer…what man couldn’t see in color rock was now seen in color blood.

blood_finger_by_splattered__blood
Blood catches up … and i keep on writing.

Of course i didn’t end there..

Even now, (while man is in awe…)

I still write…

we all are supposed to write…

on this very rock – in blood.

-you wouldn’t need special tools, all that will be needed is your strides backed by faith. The blood will make it indelible. As this won’t be a selfish cause, it will be love that shall activate the blood.

-Jectey.

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