Luyện nghe bài hát Terminus - Xtul

Quiet and hooded, his eyes stared out, hands
make patterns on the window. shifting on wood,
dog outside the door, flickering memories as
maneuver in the old men's eyes. part of a sleep-
ing world, waiting for him to come. Lost of
childhood forgotten like hope. lives are grey
stones made for cemeteries, time the victim is
desired, like misery. He down from the train,
dust on and clothes, across the way a boy was
grinning, hard-on in torn grey trousers
inherited from an earlier of the white horse.
past the flowers and signs full of dreams,
light of night filtering where woof slipped,
that darkness. Each ritual makes demand, a hope-
less coil of expensive death our exeistence.
The never changes, never falters. Along
those derelict lines to journey's end. Small hands
juice on flesh squeezing tight crinkling of
skin against eyes. There is no need of light.
Somewhere, in the secret cathedral, movements,
the whole area covered in sheets of snow, by
huts. He had no expectations, was no reason,
breathing short as the text on the wall. the
dog moved, the night trembled, like water
moved by leaves in a forest. Marks of spray in
the dust, as in the faded by choice. Our appetite
for miracles is not enough. Here, animals
remain, immaculate, seduced by pain. Ending fear
specters of welcome. Floor stained patients. The
moment of least action. He moved a rat in rubble
toward the of snow, awake and empty, like an
old house, the where all dreams meet. "He was
grinning he jumped".

Las night the boy came. Open arms. hair.
Strong. Empty face. A volunteer. Unsure of why
he came. Seduced by pain. A painting. Waiting
for release, he blinked, up at the ceiling,
let out a gasp praying for oblivion.

No anymoore. The machine engine's stopped. No
ghosts of death in the grass. Just simple, as
you would expect. No physical core. No of love
pitted carriages. Just an empty town. Derelict.
No way to identify. Sound playing across like
fingers. Just as ampty as flesh. What do you
Nothing in particular. No at all. Just a noise
of at the door. Just as before. Did you see

This is the where all roads meet, the place
where all is the secret. The where time stands
still in the comfort of night and becomes will
in the presence of light. I never to leave. I
never want to leave. I want to leave.