Miasmata

Their mouths were tainted by miasmata I vow to kill,
Miasmata with no ability to sicken my vessel protected by God’s Will.
How?
A question I cannot answer until…
I rid myself of my own…
Because,
Weed smoke still subjugates my train of thought even if it is of a different kind,
The kind that Mary Jane provides when you’re lonely during nights you would rather cry!
Instead of seeking refuge within silence we must master.
A skill allowing you to stifle voices in your head convincing you to answer them with anger!
More so,
A blessing preventing you from giving light to another disaster…
Those wildfires incinerating our soul when giving light to a life without any,
Laughter…