Poppies, not roses.

Poppies have long been used as a symbol of both sleep and death. Sleep, because of the opium extracted from them; and Death because of their (commonly) blood red colour. Magical poppy fields are dangerous because they supposedly caused those who passed through them to be in eternal slumber. Poppy flowers are also often seen as emblems on tombstones to symbolize eternal sleep.

Life, in semblance, is like a bed of poppies. Thorns on beautiful rose plants are visible danger signs that one can avoid while still admiring the beauty of the bloom. Poppies however, are lethal in a different way altogether.

Although the drug opium is produced by milking latex from the unripe seed pods, all parts of the plant can carry the opium alkaloids, especially morphine and codeine. Akin to life experiences like love and love lost, one has to be fully immersed in the phenomenon of heart-wrenching tragedies only to surface with more deep scars and hurt to carry throughout one's remaining life. These disfigurements affect your entire being, serving as reminders of the dark past you possess.

Isn't it sad to know that that Afghanistan is the world's leading producer of opium and heroin? A war torn country having to start its nation building efforts from scratch, shouldn't agricultural focus be placed on food crops to feed its impoverished population instead? Why don't people do what's right and necessary to save themselves?

It's the same reason why you can't save yourself in sinking sand.

The poppy flower is so deceivingly beautiful. But the price of beauty is always high, isn't it? Have I been intoxicated by its noxious beauty?