Whispers of Smoke: The Silent Dance of Ash and Ember

Poetry Image

In the dim glow of twilight’s breath,
Where shadows weave their gentle spell,
A cigarette whispers tales of death,
In its ember’s glow, stories dwell.

The smoke curls in an ethereal dance,
Twisting dreams in the night air,
A fleeting moment, a fleeting chance,
To find solace in its fragrant lair.

Each puff a sigh, a distant star,
Burning bright, then fading away,
Leaving traces of where we are,
In the ashes of yesterday.

Yet in its warmth, a quiet peace,
A moment’s pause, a gentle cease,
In its embrace, a soft release,
From life’s relentless, endless lease.

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