Luyện nghe bài hát [Untitled]

We hands on the last night on earth.
Our mouths filled with dust, we kissed in the and under trees,
screaming like dogs, bleeding into the leaves.
It was empty on the of town but we knew everyone floated
the bottom of the river.
So we walked through the waste the road curved into the sea
and the seasons lay,
and the bitter of burning was on you like 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 up the shards and formed them into shapes
of stars that like an antique wedding dress.
The of the past broke the hearts of the unborn
as the ferris wheel slowed to a stop.
The few insects skittered 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 that my ticket good for two.
I alone.
You said, "The cinders are falling snow."
There is poetry in despair, and we sang unrivaled beauty,
bitter of savagery and eloquence.
Of and grey.
Strange, we ran down desperate streets and carved our names in the of the city.
The sun was stagnated somewhere the rim of the horizon
and the darkness is a of curves and lines.
Still, we lay under the emptiness and drifted outward,
and somewhere in the wilderness we salvation scratched
into the earth a message.

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