Luyện nghe bài hát [Untitled]

We held hands on the night on earth.
Our mouths filled with dust, we in the fields and under trees,
screaming like dogs, bleeding into the leaves.
It was empty on the edge of but we knew everyone floated
the bottom of the river.
So we walked through the where the road curved into the sea
and the shattered lay,
and the bitter smell of burning was on you a disease.
In our of passion you said, "Death is a midnight runner."
The sky had crashing down like the news of an intimate suicide.
We picked up the shards and formed them shapes
of stars that like an antique wedding dress.
The echoes of the past broke the of the unborn
as the ferris silently slowed to a stop.
The few skittered away in hopes of a better pastime.
I kissed you at the apex of the maelstrom and
if you accompany me in a quick fall,
but you made me realize my ticket wasn't good for two.
I alone.
You said, "The cinders are falling snow."
There is poetry in despair, and we with unrivaled beauty,
bitter of savagery and eloquence.
Of and grey.
Strange, we ran down streets and carved our names in the flesh of the city.
The sun was stagnated somewhere the rim of the horizon
and the darkness is a mystery of and lines.
Still, we lay under the emptiness and slowly outward,
and somewhere in the wilderness we salvation scratched
into the earth a message.

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