first

death sits on the far end corner of the room...
you can smell sweat, diesease, abandon.
t'was dark, t'was cold...
fumes rising from cigarette butts
now flickering on the floor.

familiar faces crowded on the dancefloor,
moving to the dark beat.
people without eyes nor reaction...

i saw you walked past the room...
an angelic face amidst the blinding darkness.
a porcelain face with cameo buttons for eyes...

was it because of the dim light or just because of your radiance?