Passion, it lies in all of us

Sleeping, waiting and although unwanted, unbidden, it will stir.
Open it's jaws and hauwel.

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, clearity of hatered and the extacy of grief.

It hurts sometimes more then we can bare...
If we could live without passion maybe we could know some kind of piece, but we would be hollow.
Empty rooms, shutterd and blank.
Without passion, we'd be truly dead...

Passion is what drives us and makes us tick.
With money we can survive, but with passion we can live.

Passion is what defines us, but is also that which confuses and seperates us.
Leave it up to us, and we’ll tear each other limb from limb, as we slowly all fall apart...