'

Passion.
It lies in all of us,
sleeping, waiting.
And though unwanted, unbidden,
it will stir, open its jaws and howl.
It speaks to us, guides us.
Passion rules us all and we obey.
What other choice do we have?

Passion is the source of our finest moments:
the joy of love, the clarity of hatred
and the ectasy of grief.

It hurts sometimes, more then you can bear.
If we could live without passion maybe we'd know somekind of peace
bu we would be hollow,
empty rooms, shuttered and dank.
Without passion, we'd be truly dead.