Luyện nghe bài hát Terminus - Xtul

Quiet and hooded, his eyes out, small hands
patterns on the window. Body shifting on wood,
dog the door, flickering memories as trains
maneuver in the old men's eyes. Forever part of a
ing world, waiting for him to come. dreams of
childhood forgotten like hope. These are grey
made for cemeteries, this time the victim is
desired, misery. He stepped down from the train,
dust on and clothes, across the way a boy was
grinning, hard-on obvious in torn trousers
inherited from an earlier victim of the horse.
past the flowers and signs full of dreams,
light of night filtering woof tiles slipped,
into that darkness. ritual makes demand, a hope-
less coil of death affirming our exeistence.
The never changes, never falters. Along
derelict lines lines to journey's end. Small hands
smear juice on flesh squeezing tight of
skin worn 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 on the wall. Whenever the
dog moved, the night trembled, like water
moved by leaves in a forest. Marks of spray in
the dust, as in the future by choice. Our appetite
for is not enough. Here, only animals
remain, immaculate, seduced by pain. Ending into
specters of welcome. 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
before 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 tiny gasp for oblivion.

No engines anymoore. The machine stopped. No
ghosts of playing in the grass. Just simple, as
you expect. No physical core. No smiles of love
from carriages. Just an empty town. Derelict.
No way to identify. playing across skin like
fingers. Just as as flesh. What do you want?
Nothing in particular. No reason at all. a noise
of at the door. Just as before. Did you see

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