Under a burnt ash of brain, glowing embers of a heart remain
Smoke words raise high, cloud poems in an empty sky
Virgin eyes that stare, see different images in that air
To one a marker of graves, to another a cross that saves
In sparks to smoke dreams depart
From a flaming heart, billowing emotions paint their art
then drift away through the open door of day
Riding on the back of time, smoke rhyme at which we did stare
soon becomes just thin air