It is futile to protest the dreary haze when
It was you who sparked the first cigarette.
You, a forgotten wager in a game of chance,
Played out on an almost unintelligible scale.
Your subsequent attempts to find redemption,
Some flimsy elimination of your guilt
Fall lightly on closed, unwilling ears.
Only now does the truth occur to you –
The evil act is easier done, than any
Attempt to revert to the side of Light.
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