(Written from a cigarette's perspective)

I hang from their lips,
Clenched in between,
Sucking soul in sips,
My danger glows unseen,

I rest in a coffin,
Lined silver and gold,
With me are my kin,
Till the enemy takes hold,

Taste of my burning flesh,
Is that all they want?
All they need is a thrash,
What they must daunt,

A fierce war has been waged,
Our militia armed with death,
Damage done is more envisaged,
With each soldier’s last breath,

The foe takes us in a flame,
Till we are scorched to ash,
The oblivious fool is not to blame,
This is where we bash,
Cigars