What else is needed in life; barring some smoke and to be with myself!

Smoke, smoke, smoke, everywhere.

The smoke out of the cigarette,

The smoke out of the mist,

The smoke out from the cloudy sky,

The smoke of confusion,

The smoke of illusion,

But The smoke out of the cigarette feels most real to me.

Everything goes into oblivion when I am and you are with me.

No longing remains when you are with me.

He is lucky if I ever pause smoking for him or that.

But that has never happened, and so much feel that will ever happen.

When I steal the goldmine, I smoke to celebrate.

When gloomy, I smoke needing nothing else.

When I have nothing to do or think of, I smoke.

You just get into my life and we get along so well.

How much I love you, will smoke even on the doomsday when nothing remains all around.

Many a times, I hunted down someone I yearned for so much.

But then I asked her, can you excuse me, I want to go out for smoke.

She left and and we never met ever and I was left with my smoke, and still never felt lonely.

I admit that I am absolutely hooked to you and love to be so, forever

And when I die, life will be smoked out of me at my cremation.

And when I light a new cigarette, unless I see the smoke it means you aren't burning yet.

So is with life; unless there is no sense of death there is no life.

So does the burning log gives out smoke that was alive a while back.

And never the molten metal that is inanimate.

Unless there is no misery, there will be no imminence of joy.

.............