Luyện nghe bài hát [Untitled]

We hands on the last night on earth.
Our mouths with dust, we kissed in the fields and under trees,
like dogs, bleeding dark 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 waste where the curved into the sea
and the shattered lay,
and the bitter of burning was on you like a disease.
In our cancer of passion you said, "Death is a runner."
The sky had come crashing down like the news of an suicide.
We picked up the shards and formed into shapes
of stars that wore an antique wedding dress.
The echoes of the past broke the hearts of the
as the wheel silently slowed to a stop.
The few insects away in hopes of a better pastime.
I kissed you at the apex of the maelstrom and
if you would accompany me in a fall,
but you made me realize my ticket wasn't good for two.
I alone.
You said, "The cinders are falling snow."
is poetry in despair, and we sang with unrivaled beauty,
bitter of savagery and eloquence.
Of and grey.
Strange, we ran down desperate and carved our names in the flesh of the city.
The sun was somewhere beyond the rim of the horizon
and the darkness is a of curves and lines.
Still, we lay under the emptiness and slowly outward,
and somewhere in the wilderness we salvation scratched
the earth like a message.

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