Just staring at this rain sparks a boundless space of thoughts
Let it all out, even little by little,something that was locked out, that you sought

Let it be a pen or let be a brush
Let be a pencil or let it be some crush

At the end of all the place will fall
The place will fall when the time will call

Let it be words or let it be an art
As we lay down on a horseless cart

An endless pit with a place to fit
The choice of none as the rule was done

A mourning joy, a meaningless pleasure
A rain that forever was an unpriced treasure