Beneath the pale moonlight, a river flows,
Not of water, but of life it bestows,
A crimson symphony in silent night,
Pulsing through veins, in an endless fight.

It whispers secrets of ancient lore,
In every drop, stories of yore,
The essence of life, both fierce and grand,
Binding us all, hand in hand.

In battles fought and wounds that heal,
Blood’s sacred touch, forever we feel,
A vivid reminder of our mortal plight,
The dance of existence, a wondrous sight.

As dawn breaks, with its gentle kiss,
Blood continues its eternal bliss,
A testament to the life we embrace,
In every beat, a timeless grace.