In the haze of twilight’s gentle breath,
Lies a whisper of a hidden death,
A burning ember, a fleeting dream,
Wrapped in smoke, a silent scream.
The fingers trace the paper’s edge,
A ritual of an unspoken pledge,
Each inhale a borrowed time,
A dance upon the edge of a rhyme.
The lungs fill with a toxic kiss,
A lover’s touch that they’ll soon miss,
For in the shadows, the truth is stark,
The light of life begins to dark.
Yet hope remains in every breath,
A choice to turn away from death,
To break the chains, to clear the air,
And find the strength to truly care.