In these fields of imagined reality

In these fields
of death and hate
the air does stifle
all come to suffocate

In these fields
of love and loathing
lovers may come
to strip off the clothing

In these fields
of mares and dreams
all is lovely
all is not what it seems

In these fields
of doubts and hopes
all is imprisoned
slaves of the ropes

In these fields
which I imagined
real is fake and fake is real
everything all a pageant

In these fields
that slowly burns
flames touching only me
until the table turns.