In the hush of twilight, a spark ignites,
A cigarette cradled in trembling hands.
The ember’s glow, a beacon in the night,
As dreams dissolve into the smoky strands.

Each breath a journey, deep and slow,
Memories entwined in wisps of gray.
A fleeting comfort, a temporary glow,
As the world fades further away.

The ash falls softly, like whispered secrets,
Stories untold, hidden in the haze.
A silent companion in moments of regret,
As time slips by in a languid daze.

Yet in the end, the cigarette burns out,
Leaving only remnants of what once was.
A fleeting solace, a moment of doubt,
In the silent smoke, we find our cause.