Eyes shuttered up when the strings unleashed the vibrant melody of the power.....the drop runs down the fore and sheaths every cell that it comes across....nevertheless was the pleasure more than a drop kissing the desert sand in the Atacama....and the footprints faded with the wind as I turned back. The mane bewildered....one strand north and west..no no east and south....the path was never false...for I am here and have to make it for my own....the mane stills bewilders and I have to wait for the same to prevail in tranquility for I could do nothing but walk. The rush for the desire and the desire to achieve is far more lethal and potent than the slow adrenaline of the determination. Success was not the ramification of the determination but that of the consent to creep till the last drop of blood is not dried from my vessels.I could not falter the laws..the rules...the powerful agony of the programs which were in for us...and yes I was made for the same......
...........TO BE CONTINUED
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