Poppy Fields

The field is blazing, away with the horrors
Cloudy smoke infuses, obscuring a tunnel lifestyle
Although skipping through tunnel now, weightless
Ashes filter to the tray inside a helium head
Conquer an astounding life of troubled perception substance
Hunger hollows out the yearning for an everlasting
Another leafless branch develops rotting fruit
Life haze sustained for exact periods, slowing now
The field is ashen; nothing grows in this fragile decay
Imported fuel will again plant a façade of growth
And all is consumed in euphoria of the quickest thought release