BloodIt flows so sleekly when the pain is too much to bear. And it seeps quietly so you barely know it's there. It rushes and gushes like a crimson stream, and all it took was a sharp edge, and a mind pressured by everything. One little wince and the problems slip from sight.It flows like wine and tastes so sweet, only to those few. And sucking it feel right, only when she continues. Painting with it is a talent all lack, except for our mother nature, who painted the white roses red, and the red roses black. Blood is a delicacy which none should be denied, for blood is your true life source, kept well and protected inside.