Ode to Blood

It is the vigor of our lives,
Fills our hearts with satisfaction,
Saturation within our minds,
We savor it all for granted,
The fluid calls for adrenaline,
Purifies our tissues of glycerin,
Hydrates the cells with oxygen,
The redness pumps our lives each day,

Alas, the crimson acts like traffic
On a path that’s so erratic,
Fragility can disrupt the system,
Augment a flaw into an enigma,
The travelers clot once the walls around drop,
They flee the scene upon the scream of a beast,
And after the wound, the scarlet starts to flow,
I scoop some with a ladle,
And I take the bloodshot.

To me, the liquid is a mystery,
Watching it ooze from my victims entertains me,
Bread and wine I need not consume, for when my body pleads provision I transfuse them through.
The bloodlust always satiated me with its saline flavour and thick umami,
Seems to dry my throat after, but it rapproches sated,
Thine blood remains next for the reaper to savor it!