Faustian Smoke

In the dark room,
Silence has started its play.
Senses have nothing to feel,
Time slowly has started to decay.
.
The phosphoric friction,
Breeds in flame.
Ah! finally to my senses,
A ray of light came.
.
As the fire comes closer,
Warmth in dead cold i felt.
Air tickles the fire on d wood,
I should make most before its dead.
.
My breath makes my life burn,
And so the fire dies.
It served it purpose,
The dying hiss synonym to cries.
.
As inhale the constant dying fire,
Regains its darkness.
Spreading across my lungs,
Reaching my heart in its cunning calmness.
.
As i force it down,
It numbs my heart beats.
Sending poetic sensations,
Sensation bitter and sweeter than sweets.
.
And there it dies inside me.
I exhale its soul,
The dark remains in my body,
It burnt my chest for the heart new whole.
.
I see the mist flying away,
My body feels empty again.
I flick my own life's ashes,
My own burning life keeps me sane.
.
When fire is at end,
I've seen my own soul fly.
Its sheer pleasure,
When i see smoke disappear high.
.
I have no regrets.
Of breathing my own soul out,
It was the deal,
With devil.
For the pleasure of mine,
He'd take my soul.
I hand over it with my own will.