Beauty in Bloodshed

There is beauty in bloodshed,
think about the sunset,
think about the sunrise
which means we are not done yet.
Blood flows through us when
we become horny men
fertile women, born again
the life that comes out from within;
the bloodshed never ends.
Bleeding means that you’re alive,
too much of it is how you die,
but death leads to eternal life;
from reds to bluest skies.
There is beauty in bloodshed,
are we having fun yet?
Are we taken by surprise
with pulses racing blood red?
Blood can be spilled like
rhythm from a drum set,
music made of inner flesh
the pain, it dare not upset.
Blood flows from us when
we go to make a donation
to save a stranger of a friend,
the life we gladly lend;
the bloodshed never ends.
There is beauty in bloodshed,
think of Easter sunsets
think of all the thorns
that lined the crown upon the Lord’s head.
Think about the chalice
and the body served as warm bread,
and think of it as beauty
next time you are faced with bloodshed.


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