In the quiet glow of the evening light,
The smoke curls, a silent thief of breath,
Wisps of shadows dance in the night,
Weaving tales of life and death.
With every puff, a dream fades away,
Lost in the haze of nicotine dreams,
The heart beats slow, the colors gray,
Bound in chains of smoky schemes.
The whispers of health, a distant call,
Drowned by the allure of the burning end,
In the mirrorâs gaze, the signs befall,
A reminder of the path we bend.
Yet hope remains, a flicker bright,
To break free from the smoky veil,
Embrace the dawn, chase the light,
And let the lungs breathe without fail.