The Poppy Den

She meets him at The Poppy Den
Just a pipe or two, now and then
It's effect is to elicit dreams
That the world is not quite what it seems

They take the pipe, inclined to share
Never mind their red-eyed stare
The planet tilts, a slower turn
Fires that smolder, never burn

The drug does not quite fuel their flame
And now they wonder why they came
But visions come and visions go
Those pretty maids all in a row