In the dim corners of a restless night,Where shadows waltz in pale moon’s light,The ember’s glow, a silent serenade,A dance of smoke, in whispers, it fades.The tendrils rise, a fleeting sigh,Weaving tales of longing in the sky,A moment’s peace wrapped in a haze,Yet fleeting dreams in a smoky maze.Fingers trace the ghostly trail,Of stories born, yet doomed to fail,A bittersweet embrace with every breath,A fleeting echo of life and death.In the heart of silence, embers speak,Of fleeting moments, fragile and bleak,Yet in the ashes, hope’s gentle plea,For a world renewed, a life smoke-free.