Horus was there. Isis, in the end, did fare. You can chop up a body, but the gods can put it back together if they wish. Christ was part of the plan. He died and put his thumb out to the sky.
Life is hieroglyphics that only poets can read.
And once they are translated, pagans and priests fall down on their knees. Like a rolling stone. Like a marathon bone. Like a complete unknown. Like a man named Joan.