Passion. It lies in all of us. Sleeping, waiting, and though unwanted,
unbidden, it will stir. Open it's jaws, and howl. It speaks to us, guides us. Passion rules us all, and we obey. What
other choice do we have?
It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we can live without
passion, maybe we'd know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow.
Empty rooms, shuttered and dank. Without passion, we'd be truly dead