i dont know

A bleeding man with a book in his hand leans crippled on a wet brick wall… Another man with a pen in his hand appears slowly and together they fall.

"I must be dreaming,  I cant believe its you…..I am sorry, but for the life of me I cant remember your name… But truly I recognize you from the stone that your words were stained into when they said you were dead….and here you are…with me now….nameless and alive….back to dying like the rest of us."

"It is better to be dying then dead" Said the writer

"Then it is best to have been raised from the dead." The reader replied….."What will you do poet? What will you do with your gift now that you have your pen back?….Will you heal or will you kill?"  The reader asked as he held the hole in his side.

" I will bend for the situation and save their fate for them" The writer answered

" And what has my fate saved for me?" asked the reader on a knee.

Standing in front of the reader, the writer placed his empty hand over his eyes. His writing hand brandishing pen found his wound and dipped inside.

" I Write this with you all" the writer whispered while he scrolled blood into the wall….

" Read now poor reader" the writer spoke as he let go. "Bending blood on wet brick does your fate now show…But see fast to the reading for you both are bleeding and soon we all must go."

" I read and I read now great writer as it’s all spilled away… I see and I see now,  but for the life of me I cant conceive what you say"

" It reads poor reader that all our fates be shared and soon you will be killed away,.. Its the same you see for all you see, because the healer never passes this way"