I was born with the curse

of the Blessing of Mars

and played in his house as a child.

It wasnít long, though

before I wandered off and

became lost in the House of Man.

Fear and guilt became constant

companions, for I was an outsider.

So, I set out to tame my passions

and to hide the mark upon my flesh.

(Sheepís clothing was the best I could

manage, though.)

Eventually I built a home of my own

with sweet smoke and sweet women

and danced to the tune of my flute.

Twenty eight years had passed in all

before Saturnís inevitable return.

How was I to know that my

sword was still sharp?

And my guns had not yet cooled?

And he would bring the God of War,

the Father of my Fathers,

back to me?

And I would dwell again in His house,

this time at his right hand?