Drug that is I

The fields are full with mushrooms and poppies

such dreams are infrequent, marred, blurred

hallucinations aplenty, twisted burnt copies

cloned and infected, completely obsurd

the flesh twists in agony, blood filled itches

such fever filled rapture in one glass dream

to the brim with images, visions in riches

my body, a furnace, in this bottomless scheme

Help me out, of this bottles bottom

before I turn old, shattered, forgotten...

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