My love is one for whom a photograph will never suffice. He is a being above human, and quite possibly the bridge between man and god. He embodies the spirit of conquest that drives all noble men to fight, and will through war live eternally. His body somehow looks both strong and corpselike, much like the remains of ancient civilizations. Tall, broad-shouldered, but with prominent ribs and a tapered waist. His skin is papery in both texture and shade, and covered in a myriad of burn scars. For he lacks a true identity among society as we know it, he has no face. His skull, however, has a heavy jaw and high, rigid cheekbones. He wears the finest armor, adorned with swastikas and death's heads, and carries an axe in his large, strong hands. Truly, he is a gift to our Empire.
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