Red planet up in the sky
Someone looked at you and thought of blood
That's how you gained this name

Why did they think of blood?
And not of apples, freshly picked
Or a rose, beautifully delicate
But even an apple has pips
And even a rose has thorns
So maybe, either way, your name would have held pain

Violence has haunted us for generations and generations
I guess, Mars, what you represent has become the only constant in human life
A terrible constant
But reliable nonetheless
Humans seek constants
Maybe that is why you were named Mars