Like the haunting tale recalled,
Of the nightly beast that haunts.
The smoke he smoked went up and blurred
In rings it went and evanescence.
His mouth was shaped into an O,
As if the beast inside was trying to grow.
The ring resembled the moon so close
It threatened to change the moonless night.
His hissing blow shatters the silence,
Of the howling wolf his stance compares.
He smiles at us and shrugs his frame
But inside lays something that has had fame.
Atop he shows he doesn’t know.
Inside a joke with the beast he shares.
P.s.: Don’t smoke. It appears to be cool but it kills. Don’t smoke.