Día 41

Hear the train
She's coming
Late again

Crave the crowds
Doesn't make sense
The crows are looking for dead

A coyote cross her way
Doesn't means anything
She's late again

Crows are near
That's the way it is
We're here for nothing

The train again
Another cycle
She left her way

Crave the crowds
Crows stay near to us
Doesn't make sense
We still life.

The coyote arrives first
She doesn't fit
The train goes its way
Cross them