Smoke in the Shadows

Poetry:

In the hush of night, he stands alone,

A soul half-lost, in silence grown.

Smoke spirals like forgotten dreams,

Woven through moon's silver beams.

Hair a halo, chaos tamed,

Eyes like secrets left unnamed.

Suit pressed sharp—but heart undone,

A war inside, no one has won.

He doesn’t speak, the smoke, it sighs,

A ghostly trail of muted cries.

Beneath the neon’s solemn kiss,

He drowns in thought, in what he’ll miss.

No friend, no hand to still the ache,

Just shadows cast for old times’ sake.

And in that light, so thin and pale,

He writes his grief on smoke and veil.

A whisper fades with every breath—

Not loud, but loud enough for death.

This is the face of silent screams,

A poet lost inside his dreams.