It runs through my veins
Formed from scorched water
Neither scalds nor burns
Only silently when She mourns

It runs through my veins
Moved by gentle winds
Weaving the Scarlet Seas
In forms that only She can see

It runs through my veins
Forming thousands of blades
Each forged sentient, divine
But one She can pour like fine wine

It runs through my veins
That Scarlet Sea
I've sailed it once, paid the price
Now She can live at the cost of my life.