Recouped Blood

Bullocking the earth, he shed salt and water, blood had lost them both, he had burned blood, with sinews blown swollen, with effort, and skin browned by sun, his legs dug in uprooted earth, he sowed seeds in with care, fed them water hell of a lot, as required and even bare, he sat day and night, like a overzealous guard, like a word weaving bard, writing poetry on a golden card, slowly seeds grew shoots, and began to crackle out, like a tower from roots, all green and flowing, the windswept crop, was indeed glowing, he loaded them on, and sold them for dozens a dime, he bought from the dimes, little he could, apart from his hoarded crop, he ate with satisfaction, and had recouped, his burnt blood, not fully but a bit, take it, that he was not happy, but indeed very very sad.