Luyện nghe bài hát Terminus - Xtul

Quiet and hooded, his eyes stared out, small
make patterns on the window. Body on wood,
dog the door, flickering memories as trains
maneuver in the old men's eyes. Forever of a sleep-
ing world, waiting for him to come. Lost of
childhood forgotten like hope. These are grey
stones made for cemeteries, this the victim is
desired, like misery. He stepped from the train,
dust on and clothes, across the way a boy was
grinning, hard-on obvious in grey trousers
inherited from an earlier victim of the horse.
past the flowers and signs full of dreams,
light of night filtering where woof slipped,
into that darkness. ritual makes demand, a hope-
less coil of expensive death our exeistence.
The direction never changes, falters. Along
those lines lines to journey's end. Small hands
smear juice on flesh tight crinkling of
skin against worn eyes. There is no 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 as the text on the wall. Whenever the
dog moved, the trembled, shimmering like water
moved by leaves in a forest. Marks of cold in
the dust, as in the future by choice. Our appetite
for miracles is not enough. Here, only
remain, immaculate, by pain. Ending fear into
of welcome. Floor stained with patients. The
moment of least action. He like a rat in rubble
toward the sheets of snow, awake and empty, an
old house, the where all dreams meet. "He was
grinning he jumped".

Las night the boy came. Open arms. hair.
Strong. Empty pale face. A volunteer. of why
he came. by pain. A faded 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 playing in the grass. simple, as
you expect. No physical core. No smiles of love
from pitted carriages. Just an town. Derelict.
No way to identify. Sound playing skin like
fingers. Just as as flesh. What do you want?
Nothing in particular. No reason at all. a noise
of dreams at the door. as before. Did you see

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