Smoking Causes No Cancer… Yet Smoking Kills

A painter draws the lines
The brush captivates her outlines
The features of her face
In the midst of an empty space

Two eyes and a fine gaze
A little mouth and a kiss I chase
Rosy cheeks soft as silk
Smooth skin as fair as milk

The portrait of my sweet
Tells of majesty from top to feet
Her beauty has no peer
As she ignites an eternal flare

-Faithinlove-

I am a heavy smoker; I have become an addicted; I cannot resist the call of the dreams, which I puff, inhale, breathe in and release as smoke rising in the air, taking different shapes, floating and escaping from me. I take my lighter; I put a dream to fire; dreams taste so sweet; they survive in smoke and die to turn into ashes. I am a heavy smoker of visions and reveries; I am addicted to them; I live in their smoke and like their taste; when dreams burn, I feel them coming in and going out, crossing the whole of my soul and leaving to seek others. I am obsessed with dreams; they haunt me in loneliness and in companionship; I put them to fire; I consume them as they consume me, then I put them to rest in the ashtray, ashes as they are; the wind blows, and they are no more, gone with the wind.

I am a heavy smoker; I have become an addicted; I cannot resist the call of the passions, which I puff, inhale, breathe in and release as smoke rising in the air, taking different shapes, floating and escaping from me. A lighter in my hand, I put my passions to fire; I smoke them; they get in me, then out of me. I stare at them burning like they have been burning inside of me; I stare at them expiring and turning into ashes; from ashes they will rise for passions resurrect; they never die; their burning is purification, a ritual that disinfects the putrid corners of my heart. I have so many passions; I keep them with me to fight the bitter loneliness; passions fill the vacant spaces, heal the agonizing wounds, and cleanse the troubled soul. I put passions to fire; I consume them as they consume me, then I put them to rest in the ashtray, ashes as they are; the wind blows, and they are no more, gone with the wind.

I am a heavy smoker; I have become an addicted; I cannot resist the call of the love, which I puff, inhale, breathe in and release as smoke rising in the air, taking different shapes, floating and escaping from me. Love burns the whole of me whenever I look in your eyes; I put love to fire in return; I burn love that burns me; love and me end up consuming each other, holding each other in an eternal blaze; we turn into ashes; we are no more as we hope you will remember. I am a heavy smoker of love; love causes no cancer, but sometimes I feel out of breath; I put my hand on my chest; I feel my heart throbbing at high-speed; I try to breathe with little hope and I know love will kill me someday, but I cannot give it up; I am addicted to love. I put love to fire; I consume it as it consumes me, then I put it to rest in the ashtray, ashes as it is; the wind blows, and it is no more, gone with the wind.

I am a heavy smoker; I have become an addicted; I cannot resist the call of the lady, which I puff, inhale, breathe in and release as smoke rising in the air, taking different shapes, floating and escaping from me. My lady is so fine; I smoke her with my dreams, passions and love; I smoke her with desires; she tastes so fine when she burns alongside my lips; I feel her in and release her out from time to time so that she can miss me more, as I miss her more and more. I am a heavy smoker of my lady; I am addicted to her; she is my companion in the times of inspirations; she is my inspiration; her smiles and her gazes penetrate the deepest of my soul and revive in me pleasures I cannot describe. She is the fire and she is the smoke; she is the blaze as her flesh burns my flesh when desires invade; I am but ashes. I put myself to fire; I consume myself as my lady consumes me, then I put myself to rest in the ashtray, ashes as I am; the wind blows, and I am no more, gone with my passion for her.

-Faithinlovewithyou-