A poem i wrote about my late night trips outside to smoke my lungs away.

Darkness flows across the land
Spotted white light in the abysmal sky
Suddenly a click, a sign of life.
A dim blue flame with a vibrant orange tip appears.
It flickers and lights the space for a few seconds
Then its gone.
The world expects to go dark once more but is disturbed.
The faint orange glow remains, as hot as burning coals
From its tip white smoke appears briefly, then disappears
An inhalation is heard and orange glows more vividly
Almost alive, like a spark attempting to light a flame.
It reveals a white stick and a face before returning to a dim glow
Twice the smoke is blown into the air and the process is repeated
All the while the white stick grows smaller and smaller until all that is left
Is a stub.
The stub is released, stuck in freefall before striking the cruel earth
It's once vibrant glow seemingly pleading for revival but alas
STOMP
It's life is ended and the world returns to darkness
Footsteps are heard fading away
Leaving the night,
Dark.
Still.
And ever so silent.