Luyện nghe bài hát Terminus - Xtul

Quiet and hooded, his stared out, small hands
make on the window. Body shifting on wood,
dog outside the door, flickering as trains
maneuver in the old men's eyes. Forever of a sleep-
ing world, waiting for him to come. dreams of
childhood forgotten like hope. These are grey
stones made for cemeteries, this the victim is
desired, misery. He stepped down from the train,
dust on road and clothes, the way a boy was
grinning, hard-on obvious in torn grey
inherited an earlier victim 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 of expensive death affirming our exeistence.
The never changes, never falters. Along
derelict lines lines to journey's end. Small hands
smear juice on flesh tight crinkling of
skin against worn eyes. is no need of light.
Somewhere, in the cathedral, small movements,
the whole area in sheets of snow, pitted by
huts. He had no expectations, was no reason,
breathing as the text on the wall. Whenever the
dog moved, the night trembled, shimmering like
moved by in a forest. Marks of cold spray in
the dust, as in the future 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
the sheets of snow, awake and empty, like an
old house, the place all dreams meet. "He was
grinning he jumped".

Las night the boy came. Open arms. hair.
Strong. pale 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 engines anymoore. The engine's stopped. No
ghosts of death in the grass. Just simple, as
you would expect. No physical core. No smiles of
from carriages. Just an empty town. Derelict.
No way to identify. playing across skin like
fingers. Just as ampty as flesh. do you want?
Nothing in particular. No at all. Just a noise
of dreams at the door. as before. Did you see

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