Ode to Passion

There are reasons

far beyond, all in life that one can know.

Reasons which won't be explained, just because we want it so.

But within them, goodness lies,

despite the tears a lifetime cries.

Beyond the hurt,

beyond the pain,

eternal bliss is ours to gain.

There's a battle to be fought,

with the demons in our heart,

for the kingdom in our soul,

to which love unlocks the door.

And say goodbye,

to all your tragic dreams

and soon forgotten sorrows.

Michael, come on.

Come on, get up.

Get up, lad, let's get you home.

Leave me alone.

- Come on, Michael, you're gonna get arrested.

Up we go.

No.

No!

He arrives from Paris tonight.

- Away? - Three months,

hired to write. Ah, but here he comes.

Welcome back, young Michael Fiorelli.

Why good sir, what could possibly bring

such a prestigious writer as yourself to such a shabby site?

Surely not you, oh sexy John,

but perhaps this full moon, seducingly strange night.

Nonetheless, I'm here.

That you are, that you are.

All's well, I see?

As well as well can be.

And you, what tales have you to tell?

Of life, of love, false or true?

What can I say?

Not much is new, but come, it's you who's just returned,

so please tell of all the midnight oils burned.

If only it were so, though sadly, no.

I was locked in a cell.

Okay, a Parisian shack, writing and writing,

couldn't wait to get back.

Really?

But enfante, Paris, I thought

it was the city of love and glee.

Paris is lovely, yes indeed.

I just wish I'd had more time--

Dear John,

what ardent, passionate light I see.

Through my skin and to my heart, ablaze her glare sets me.

Glimmering, radiant beauty.

- Oh, Michael, awaken, for fair as this young maiden be,

fool yourself only you shall, with such intensity.

Too late now for looks at least,

proof of goodness yet to see, wish me luck.

What grace does shine through soft, fair skin

and wakens every sense, but what's it's done

to this here heart, only your love can make amends.

Sweet young boy,

whose eyes all too anxiously devour what they see,

and those words, to which silk must have

but lost a million battles,

what do you want with me?

- Only to avow that which my heart believes,

by seeing your soul, so radiant and pure,

it must but be the inner spark

that blares aloud through gorgeous eyes

and angel's soft, fair skin.

Speak no more, at least not now.

It is soft silk those words, they imitate,

weaving loving thoughts, my heart they penetrate.

Obscure thoughts in my mind accelerate

the beating of my heart and oddly,

though, please speak again.

Gentle, cradle, my heart mend.

My lips, my heart does guide,

and speak to you, fair angel of light, I shall,

but come; let us leave now,

somewhere beneath the sweet moonlight.

- Common male! That you are to drag me from my friend,

into a dark, oh night so cold,

what is it you pretend?

To know your heart and search

your soul for all that which is true,

and it be a pureness that I find,

In love I'll fall with you.

To these words and in these arms

too quickly I could fall...

yet life's misery, more so quickly I recall.

So black-hearted human ways,

have pierced and harmed your heart,

I do so sense their base, impure, oh pain-inflicting art.

So shall we chat?

Come, sit and hear more than you'd wish to know,

though I'm certain after this,

no more sweet words, you'll only go.

Speak and say that which you shall,

fair warning though I give you now,

no matter what your words may be;

shock I've heard, all thunder and emotion,

nonetheless, my love prevails,

pure and true with all devotion.

Assure me not, for we shall see,

if loving words prove true to be.

So much to say but where to start?

It matters not, just speak your heart.

An introduction, that sounds nice,

and for a start, it shall suffice.

Sarah Andrews.

Sarah Andrews.

- Why what a lovely name, who would've thought it'd be the same.

- (chuckles) Lovely name for lovely dame,

and Michael Fiorelli,

that's my name.

Now, what more have you to say?

You wish to know, so ask away.

- Fair enough, if it's this game that we shall play,

what's your favorite color, favorite song, and favorite day,

Favorite hour, favorite pet, favorite genius intellect,

Favorite movie, favorite scene,

favorite sport, and favorite team?

- Okay, all right, I'll let you breathe.

Silver, majestic, striking is it's shine,

Favorite song escapes my mind.

Sunday's calm, I guess, all right,

but I love wild Friday night.

12:00 a.m., not night nor day,

cats are best in every way.

Da Vinci, shockingly ahead of his time,

"Pretty Woman," I forget the line.

Rough and tough football I choose, 49ers, win or lose.

I think that's all, if I recall.

Now catch your breath before you fall.

Intense and wistful, all you say,

have you always been this way?

Don't get me wrong, I judge you not,

I do so love your every thought,

but how indeed you do convert, to burning passion every word?

The answer is you...

You need not ask, for words become a simple task;

with beauty such before my eyes,

my breath but mumbles that which my heart sighs.

Now, words, more sounds from you again,

and into bliss my heart you'll send.

- Well and fair, to these words I can't refuse,

but to listen, you did choose.

Though I forewarned, not all is bright,

Dark, perhaps,

darker than night.

My childhood was fun,

my mom, my dad, my brother and I,

but then my brother had to die.

His death is not where I should start,

at 17, she broke his heart.

I do say she, for I hate her name.

My brother's death on her I blame.

To kill his pain, the one within,

his choice of drug, heroin.

Of all the drugs, the one he chose

quickly killed him, overdose.

Mom and Dad didn't last long,

Dad claimed everything was wrong,

so he packed up and went his way,

and with my mother I did stay.

I'm sorry, but I'm also most impressed,

at the ease with which your sorrows are confessed.

I've had much practice, you could say,

two years of counseling every other day.

High school years were shot to hell,

of pleasant times, there's none to tell.

Too soon, too quick did things go bad,

for young, naive met senior Brad.

At 15, my love I'd met, a love forever I'd regret.

Brad brought sex and drugs along,

and you don't refuse when your love's so strong.

Either way, we didn't last,

and there's no way to change your past.

So bad habits soon become addictions,

and when broken-hearted, to hell with all convictions.

Nothing ever lasts.

God, I hate to feel this way,

please don't say that you won't stay.

How could I dare to leave,

one minute apart would break my heart.

You offer more than I could ask,

too simple, pleasurable a task.

Now, to make some sort of vow.

- That you'll hold me forever and always, just as you do now?

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

A thousand times, yes.

Bless this night and praise these stars.

Ungrateful, we shan't be, for this night of love

unveiled bliss and placed you next to me.

Dawn?

Too soon our night is gone.

Oh God, look at the time,

Alexa will think I was out of my mind.

- Out of your mind but not your heart and soul,