Two ifs.

If there's anything I've learnt about women from all these years of my existence, it's this: If a woman decides to leave, there's nothing you can do to get her back. Better learn to let go of her or you'll end up losing yourself.

Here I come.

Icy winds eat through my skin I fly above, on my beaten wings Dabbed in snow are my footprints Along the trail, following the winds Changing directions, hear me howling Running with the wolves, I am A wildling Against the tide I try and swim, Always hustling, I walk this road, kicking the ruckus There's…

Here.

"Here lies the man broken by His dreams" Said the stone as I passed by He lived with the world, Now he sleeps alone No dried flowers on his side And nobody to mourn What do you live by? I think as I smoke A warmth fills my heart And I escape the cold With…

My kind of love.

"What?" She shrieked and a smirk followed. "What?" I repeated, holding her toes between my fingers, perfectly intertwined. "You shouldn't touch the feet of women, know that? Makes a dent in your manliness." I bent down, kissed her feet and looked right into her eyes "What kind of a man doesn't love his woman's toes?"

A man.

From the ashes, he rose In the darkness and smoke Scarred by his past Bleeding from the blame Bright shone his eyes A soul set ablaze Strong, his desire Driven by hate Hell was the path, A battle with fate Steps, heavy Breath on fire Mind numb, A walking nightmare Vengeance in his blood, Blood…