In the quiet breath of evening light,
A cigarette whispers tales untold,
Its smoke curling in the fading night,
A fleeting warmth, a gentle hold.

The ember glows with a fiery grace,
As shadows dance on weary walls,
In solitude, it finds its place,
Answering the silent calls.

Each drag a story, each puff a sigh,
Memories drift in a hazy stream,
From lips to air, they softly fly,
Dissolving dreams into a dream.

Yet as the ashes fall away,
The night returns to silent still,
The cigarette, in its brief stay,
Leaves echoes that linger, whispering still.