Stoned

Just a sniff or a whiff soothes the soul, a kiss of the syringe fills with peace and joy so great alas! Temporary. Oh! what many'd give to soar on wings eagle's and to the highest peaks climb amidst tunes angelic. But many a soul oft shatter under its grip inexorable, bound in chains and iron fetters to a sniff, whiff and oh! A kiss of the syringe. They sit back and fantasize, but the Peace they seek is naught but an illusion, a dream they chase and ne'er get till they bid the world goodbye!