This is my Bleodsian?

Some people are born with tragedy in their blood

Eternal liquid internal rud  

And of how I got these scars

As apple from the tree not far

To grow into a man of wrath

Walking down the bolded path

Heretic heredity; hearsay now:

Compete within this bloody vow:

Lest corruption like a cancer spread

The darkened mind within the head

Fend off crazy, complacent in insane

Angered stirrings in the brain

Coming to fruition that wasn’t there as a child

A heart pumping darkness, thoughts running wild

Some are born with Sangre Real

Those crowned heads entwined laurel

Traded bay leaves for twisted thorns

Passing on to sons first born

Some are born with halos unforeseen

None can witness their slow angelic glean

Slow and firm illuminated with patience

Until the sprung moment of revelations

So-me born in tragedy, royalty, or example

There’s blood in the body, 6 quarts is ample

What is destiny, inside, and destiny out

Of blood we are born, and of Blood we run out

Whatever it is from that I descend,

There are evils from which I must constantly defend

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Bleodsian is the Old English word for Blessing.

It stemmed from the act of Sprinkling Blood on an object to make it sacred.  Blessing.

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