Baron

Christian in Gomorrah

“Do you love me?” She said
as she rested her head on my shoulder.
The party behind us,
her eyes soft and lustrous;
beguiling, concealing
the truth of her feelings;
heart of ice that would only
grow colder.

An angel of death sang
enchanting refrains, while she whispered soft
promise of free love and
the sound of the rock band;
rhythmic, pulsating,
an abyss awaiting ...