Words Spoke Before The Hidden Track

(Gibson Casian)-- We held hands on the last night on

earth. Our mouths filled with dust,

we kissed in the fields and under trees,

screaming like dogs, bleeding dark into the leaves.

It was empty on the edge of town but we knew everyone

floated along the bottom of the river.

So we walked through the waste where the road curved

into the sea and the shattered seasons lay,

and the bitter smell of burning was on you like a disease.

In our cancer of passion you said, "Death is a midnight runner."



(Davey Havok)-- The sky had come crashing down like

the news of an intimate suicide.

We picked up the shards and formed them into shapes

of stars that wore like an antique wedding dress.

The echoes of the past broke the hearts of the unborn

as the ferris wheel silently slowed to a stop.

The few insects skittered away in hopes of a better

pastime. I kissed you at the apex of the maelstrom

and asked if you would accompany me in a quick fall,

but you made me realize that my ticket wasn't good for two. I rode alone.



(Hans Wold)-- You said, "The cinders are falling like

snow." There is poetry in despair,

and we sang with unrivaled beauty,

bitter elegies of savagery and eloquence.

Of blue and grey. Strange,

we ran down desperate streets and carved our names

in the flesh of the city. The sun has stagnated somewhere

beyond the rim of the horizon and the darkness is a

mystery of curves and lines.

Still, we lay under the emptiness and drifted slowly

outward, and somewhere in the wilderness we found salvation

scratched into the earth like a message.