In the silent murmur of the night,
A cigarette burns, a fleeting light,
Whispering secrets to the stars,
As ashes fall, like scattered scars.

Each puff a dance, a ghostly waltz,
Through the shadows, where silence halts,
Memories drift in smoky haze,
Moments lost in a transient blaze.

The ember glows, a heart’s lament,
A fleeting warmth, a life well spent,
In the curling tendrils of the air,
Echoes of dreams, whispered despair.

As the last breath fades to grey,
The cigarette’s end, a quiet sway,
Leaving behind a trace of night,
In the dawn’s first tender light.