My flesh is your flesh

Your blood is mine own

What is it but red?

We are all flesh and blood

And what is flesh but the material of the body?

And what is blood but the fluid that fuels the flesh?

And what is body but the prison of the mind

The chains which bind the spirit to this mortal sphere?

We cherish our body for that which we believe unique

Yet what are we but flesh and blood?

My blood is yours

Is it not red?

And your flesh is mine own.