Smoke Filled Rooms

Beneath the chandelier’s contemplative glow,
In the library of silence, where smoke ribbons flow.
The cigar, a master artist with a scented brush,
Paints serenity’s portrait in a hushed, golden hush.

The week’s heavy cloak falls to the floor,
As the candles gentle fire whispers of lore.
Laughter’s echo is a phantom in the smoke’s soft wreathe,
Weaving a tapestry of solace on a tranquil loom beneath.

Enshrouded in smoke, where solace is spun,
The cigar’s whispered wisdom has only begun.
Each breath, a deeper descent into serenity’s seam,
Lifting the veil to a world that only dreamers deem.

Glowing embers tell tales of roads less defined,
Their promise of discovery in the ember's soft wind.
A lighthouse in mist, with a beckoning glow,
Urging the soul to a path only the brave will know.

Below 'Sensuality', the canvas of night,
Where a siren’s shadow plays with the light.
Now the flame of longing, silently illuminates desire
Warming the soul, chasing shadows with fire.

In her realm of grace, the silhouette reigns,
An alluring dance in the glow of the flames.
Smoke spirals upward, a soft, silent plea,
In the quiet, she yearns to be free.

The room breathes in deep as smoke dances away,
In the waltz of shadows, her allure comes to play.
Lips aglow, where fire’s touch is known,
Kindling an ardor, drawing an ember’s moan.

With the cigar’s final glow, the charade gently fades,
In the thinning smoke, the ego's masquerade parades.
The sacred silence where false selves part,
And only the essence beats true in the heart.

In the temple where smoke and stillness are twined,
A silent revelation, beyond the bounds of time.
The release of desire into the tranquil night,
In the glow of 'Serenity', peace takes flight.