As I pen these words to leave a lasting record, I wonder myself where it all began.

My woman has a wandering eye;Yarrow, thyme and thorn.She eyes the ocean and the skyWhile stitching sails, forlorn.I got a kiss, and then a tearAs she bade me go;But on the waves, my heart's in fear:My woman's in the know.

The gods cared nothing for those they touched. Especially war gods.