Cigarettes And Cocoa-Cola

Cigarettes and Cocoa-Cola;
Guilty pleasures to pass the time.
Building heat within my lungs;
Listening to the tick, tick, tick, then chime.

And old, red leather chair,
With creases, holes, and cracks.
I exhale a storm cloud above,
Gently leaning back.

Thoughts escape their prison,
Twirling about in the fog.
The lights behind my eyes glow,
Like the embers alive in the logs.

Sparks dance with the shadows,
Casting shapes upon the floor.
The quiet is as still as midnight,
Then, comes a knock on the door.

It is time.