The heavy rain, there is no stopping it,
Looking grim and messy,
But while the furries are prepared,
Then there's me, shivering.

I wore my linen clothes, too thin,
I laid on the floor, too cold,
But I'm not going anywhere,
Because the heavy rain will stop,
Eventually.

There is a young crow,
soaring with a flock of pigeons,
flying from its sorrows,
far away from its prison.

There is a young crow,
No boundaries to fly,
yet he wanders in silence,
across the gloomy sky,
for his pigeons,
they die.

There is a young crow,
flying low, feeling unsure,
astonished and in disbelief,
left alone and insecure,
Becauseause he never wanted,
To leave.