Ash And Smoke Poem by InkMe Abhi

Small, sturdy box of fire ignites your soul,

Deep black heads of those match sticks, eagerly

Waiting for a spark, turning themselves into tiny balls of fire;

With which you lit up the cigarette of your lover,

How beautifully they two kiss, in that moment of intense passion;

One burning itself out and other getting burnt,

After the game of desire gets over, what remains?

Only ash and smoke, lifeless yet so satisfying leftover isn't it!

Time halts, clock ticks and calmness comes,

Ever thought, which one is you? what will you be?

Be the grey ash or the grey smoke?

Similar yet not so near, near yet quite far,

You be the smoke then, i take the ash

You blow off, and rest in the lap of eternity, I pray,

While I be like the ignorant leaf somewhere down the streets of Montreal.