

The SmokeBeautiful, billowing, blue and white, The clouds come out of the pipe. Awakened it is by the essence of fire, Its wings start to carry me, higher and higher. The tender leaves green, turn black and into white, Glowing red with warmth, as they burn up into the night. O' tis a magical herb, its mystical power released. It cleanses my body and mind, and ensures my soul has found peace.The Smoke
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