Hephaestus



She doesn't love me. She never has. I see it-I feel it. Every time we embrace, there's something missing. Little did I know that something was another man. I should've guessed it. Her evasiveness said it all. Before you told me, I would go down to my workshop And stare at my reflection in the fire, Searching in the flickering flames Searching for my happiness. But, alas, the fire would go out. And the remains were ash, a memory of my contentment, And my wife and Ares lusting in the darkness of my soul. But revenge shall be mine! We shall see if this worksmith's body Still has enough strength in his crippled limbs To weave a seductive trap. With your help, Helios, We can catch them, ensnare them in a golden net, Leave them naked with the truth. Torture their hearts full of adultery: "Look how limping Hephaestus conquers War, Tthe quickest of all the gods who rule Olympus." And their hearts shall break. And the pieces shall fall to the earth. And they shall lie beside my broken heart. Love herself will cry with shamed tears Glistening under the crescent moon upon the wreath. But it can protect her no longer. For how can a man forgive an adulterous wife?