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What makes one alive

By: rogue


Graphics by: Cassius Klai C. Francisco

Photo by: Kaizer Zeth R. Cabrera


Is being alive defined by my beating heart?

With blood circulating through every part, 

reaching every corner, never to miss,

nurturing all my organs in bliss.


Or is it defined by my lungs letting me breathe,

releasing unwanted air into the trees?

Yet there’s a source of life found deep beneath,

something soothing the breeze stirred by the seas.


It was tender words and a pair of eyes

that drove my entire system to rise.

Sculpting sunshine from somber.

Being alive, in my terms, is being with her. 


Breathing and living do not equate;

one couldn’t cater to the purpose missing.

Her absence would send me into a lifeless state. 

 ‘Cause darling, without you…

I’m just merely existing

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