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...