Cloudy skies flow tenderly through the twilight expanse;
the smell of impending rain invading the air.
Hearts beating to the thoughts of pondering minds.
The moon gleams through the drifting smoke of a cigarette.
Old wounds smolder and drift away like ash,
while fists are clenched tight and tears stream freely.
Time washes away all along with the acid rain.
Lost souls huddled in a corner with a hope and a cigarette.
Shelter nowhere to be found in this dismal place,
hoods covering gaunt faces and restless eyes.
The insignificant flame will not seem to die out,
for the selfless ones and their slowly dwindling cigarette.
Each step towards salvation is another wicked trial.
The cool night wind howling against a frail will.
One last inhalation before the pulsing ember finally dies,
they exhale the dying breath of their meager cigarette.
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