Promise me, dear child that when the tide rolls in strong enough to sink your head and the vibe to carry on you no longer have, you would find no solace in the open arms of the white element wrapped in the end product of the tress, lit only by a match or better still the sticks that have been improved upon by the intellectualism of the son of Adam transferred into beings with no soul but strong enough to consume the offspring of man amd render him into oblivion.
Promise me, dear child that when you are offered to take a drag even as they come in different flavors for one to savor, you would gracefully decline by stomping your feet upon it walking on with your head held high and looking back at it no more.
For in it dear child, you would spend your cash, money, kudi, ego but it would do only momentary good to your ego. For in it dear child, you would be promised to soar on high upon wings of an eagle but not the super eagles. For in it dear child, you would be promised sharper reflexes but by the time the effects wear out…examples given to you on the board you shall miss. For in it dear child you would be promised the ability to visit places without even buying a ticket or obtaining a visa but I assure you the only transport you would be getting is a one way ticket to Belial. For the very essence of your living it would become and without it you would be not able to derive a meaning for your life for dependent you would heave become on it. For everytime you take a drag and savor the moment, puffing out rings either through your mouth or nose, you puff out your life right before your very eyes albeit in rings.
For when nature comes calling in the form of spasms wrecking your entire being to its very core and causing tears to cascade down your now wrinkled face and you go running to the physician’s for help, he would only in return give you an unending list of names unheard of in my days offering you no help whatsoever to them for no help can be rendered.
For by then you would sit by the fireplace, weak, wasted, spent and out of you would flow streams of resentment for the white element, but jeer at you it would in return for it has consumed your very essence of being.
Promise me, dear child that you would hearken to these words uttered from the blackened lips and yellowed teeth charred by savoured moments of taking a drag here and a puff there. This I tell you dear child, for I know of one who does not drag but alas is the most high.
Tales of the Phoenix.