Passion

Passion, sleeping, waiting in all of us... unwanted, unbidden.
It speaks to us, guides us, rules us... and we obey, hoping love will stay.
The joy of love, the clarity of hatred, the ecstasy of grief.
It hurts sometimes more than we can bear,
Love sometimes too brief, falling again do you dare.
If we could live without passion,
maybe we would know some kind of peace.
But we would be hollow... empty, dark and dank.
Sadness and anger we must release
though pain like heart bearing shank;
for passion... is the source of our finest moments.
~Brian Blackwell

Copyright © 2008 Brian Blackwell