I am a man.  Only a man.  I am built of passion, the sinews of muscle that bind these bones, and the blood that stirs, but passion is my master.

I will carry love through the battlegrounds of this world, through life and into death.  When hope is lost you will find my strength.

I am a force of rage.  I will cut through the family trees of my enemies, from the strongest root to the newest growth.

I am a man. Only a man. I am built of passion. I am a juggernaut, but fall without the embrace of others.

I cry fiery tears of despair when I imagine a world bereft of your presence. I sit alone on an island built on the rocks that are my fears.

My memory is built upon many things, but rage holds my hand to lead me forward. I embrace vengeance for past affronts and grow flush with anticipation.

I am a man. A broken man. My flaws are manifold and I see few solutions.

I cling to those that can carry my shattered heart in the wake of my actions.  Those whose flesh I would carry through the battles they lack the strength to wage alone.

Without passion I am neither the hero, nor the companion I must be.  I am only a shell. A man none-the-less, but only flesh.

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