Flash hot lance penetrates leather skin,
Divulges vital fluids,
A fleeting sting upon well-trodden turf,
A bead of liquid forms.
The straw like thirsty traveler,
Drinks deep of carmine liquid,
It lurches up the trunk,
And finds its home in plastic hold.
What value is this letting,
The numbers run and calculate,
The worth of something so dear,
Rarely given value,
Now rigidly defined on a fixed scale.
Too high,
Too low,
It matters little,
This soil must be probed again,
An inexhaustible resource.
For now an exchange takes place,
Blood for blood,
Blood forever.
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