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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?
