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Smoke

I see myself caged in a room,
A mildly dark, cold room.
A glimpse of the evening sky through a small broken window,
Saffron with broken white lines.
There is a Cigarette on my Lips.
I inhale the smoke,
And absorb it in my Veins and Soul.
The warmth provides comfort in dark times.
As I exhale, the smoke rises,
Escaping through the window,
Leaving me cold again.
Now, the Cigarette expires,
And with it, my soul.

-@roy.ban
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