Answer:
A shimmering field that reaches far. Yet it has no tracks, And is crossed without paths.
It is a part of us, and then replaced. It escapes out bodies, to a better place. The world becomes its sizeable home. Its passions unrestraint, the planet it roams.
Who works when he plays and plays when he works?
It holds no blessings in disguise. Its rhymes are aimed at your demise, it's cast only to ruin, Whatever you are doin'.
It is an arctic double breasted formal wear.
People take me on walks and I run and have fun. What am I?