From Smoke To Skull

The era of westernization

A tale of survival it narrates,

The social inclusion comes 

In the form of peers back,

The Gordy habits we begin to stack.

The hue of smoke is that we cherish

How much would our body, we never think

That would perish!?

To implant an audacity in personality,

Rum sounds best in the vicinity.

Engrossed in creating a stature,

Painting the colors of smoke 

As our feature,

Rattling breaths is that we deny

In the future, our health would cry.

Limits our the rules of living

The breath would abate if we don't 

Start weaning,

Giving an amicable glance Once or 

twice a while, 

Would not shorten our run by a mile.

But wrong habits if the transition to our 

Character,

None of our guilt would matter

Before the flesh dries to a meagre 

Set of bones

Let the time left, be a chance to pay 

Our body, the indebted loans.