Smoke

Cold, shuddering and biting,
 envelops you, while you 
 search for warmth
 amidst the ruins,
 where wildfire and war,
 meet, retreat and melt away.

Remnants of a fire, that
 leaves behind smoke that
 you crave,
 that tears into your lungs,
 with an intensity on par
 with the bitter
 morning air.

Crave while you collapse
 on yourself, not unlike
 an imploding building,
 reducing foundations 
 to rubble.

Crave the smoke that once slipped through you, 
 Scarring, searing, showing 
 the way.

You unlearn, re-learn and cling 
 on to knowledge that is 
 obsolete.

But learn you never will.