Many things am I, the foundation of many parts of life, in and outside the body, I make buildings steady, swords strong and when I decay red is all that's left.

Juliet died at my hand, when cold air hits your skin or eyeballs it can feel like thousands of tiny versions of me are piercing you.

I come from high above, dark and with a magnet quality. I am said to have changed the world dramatically.

I was born a slave, yet promised power untold, I loved a queen but my heart turned cold. Fire took my flesh, darkness took my soul, I lost my path to shadows, yet in the end I see, I saved my son, fulfilled the prophecy, and found the Force in me.

A man was born in the year nineteen forty eight and died twenty years later in the year nineteen twenty eight. How is this possible?