Ares looks nothing like his parents, the fair
siblings Zeus and Hera. He's a throwback to the older, darker gods,
to gold-winged Chaos and black-breasted Night. When he stalks
the battlefield, a touch of his hand on their shoulder makes dying men
come, while lovers say Ares smells of blood and has the softest hair they've
ever felt. When speaking of the war god, these men close their eyes
to protect the memory, even as they brag of it. There's a statue
of Ares in Tenagra, depicting him beautifully naked, reclining on his throne.
Women creep from quiet houses at midnight to caress the god's marble thigh;
on the third stroke, they vow, their wombs are filled.
image was created exclusively for me by WorstWitch
using a pic
from Atropos, and is not to be reproduced.
Do not reproduce this image without permission.