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.