Living Inside of Death

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When did I start living? This I ask myself.

         My eyes caught sight of a photograph-

         Resting on my old bookshelf.

         In the photo I see- who used to be my other half.


Perhaps he was then, but now I can’t tell

         For time changed us and drew us apart.

         This memory, my mind no longer dwells.

         I’ve found someone who takes the shape of my heart.


I found myself dreaming about he and I-

         Impracticality caught inside my head.

         I start to wonder as the days go by-

         Am I living or am I dead?


Four seasons they would always forecast,

          But you always make it a happy summer day.

          I hope this feeling would forever last

          In your long warm arms and hope you would stay.


What if this summer day would come to an end?

          Stormy rains, thunderous lightning- raging wild among the heavens.

          This is the fear if I confess my affections to you,

          But still I hope you would say you love me too.


But still I hope nothing will ever change

          But still I hope you would feel the same way

          But still I hope I would never see you in rage

          And stay whether or not I’m living inside of death.


(co-written with: Peter Claver O. Tan)


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