The blood that flows beneath the skin Carries stories lost within A thread that ties us, yet we break A cycle bound, a fate we make Is this blood the life we own? A truth in red, or seeds we’ve sown? It stains the hands, it feeds the soul But does it lead us to the whole? Through every cut, a lesson learned A history written, forever burned We speak of love, but is it pure When blood and time are all we’re sure?