I grew up with a monotonous melody.
My life floats by as I sit on the veranda of my parents' house,
Watching the mango trees,
The boundary walls, once white, are now painted gray,
Reminds me of dull music.

My eyes lack the curiosity to watch the branches wag in the dead wind.
Not enough to tone down my sweaty rugged skin.
There's nothing more to see when I open my eyes Wide.
Across a plain land,
I see the same hill, and the same horizon.

It darkens when the sun sinks
And is covered with fog at dawn when the sun begins to rise.
I grew up in uncommunicated silence; it's my nature.
My nature reminds me of dull music.
My younger eyes would ask what was behind the hill,
But now I know the limit.

They say you'll be lost amidst the waves of strangers,
you're fragile...
But I know how it feels when the lapping sound of the waves of the same river no longer pleases the heart.

When the same tree and the same houses seem monotonous
And do not create wonder.
The heart longs to see the unseen...
you'll be lost...
Will I be lost?
Time floats!
Time floats!

There is no torrent of hope left to light up my dream.

Am I fragile?

© L o s t S o u l