In the quiet flicker of a match’s glow,
Lies the promise of a moment’s peace,
A whispering trail of smoke does flow,
Binding heart and mind, it finds release.
Within the curl of silver haze,
Dreams dance like shadows in the light,
Yet in its grasp, the longing stays,
A fleeting escape into the night.
As embers glow and ashes fall,
The silence speaks its gentle plea,
In every breath, a siren’s call,
A paradox of being free.
Still, through the haze, a truth unfolds,
In smoky trails and quiet sighs,
A story of the heart it holds,
Where desire lives, and freedom lies.