Sleeping Beauty - Writers Block Poetry Contest Week 1

I am alone in a field of tall grass.
A soft breeze play a rustling melody.
I am standing on a plain of forever
and I feel only the peace of the plane.
I begin moving forward without steps
flowing as if one with the landscape.
Buildings blossom and overtake.
I become a nobody in a sea of many
all flowing in a uniform contentment.
Now there is a harsh in the distance.
One who is not one with this oneness.
He is loud. He is rage. He is chaos.
The flow pulls me toward the discordance.
I am close now and the peace is lost.
Alarms become a part of the clamor
and I just want to leave this horror.
The razor of consciousness slices through
and I wake in the nightmare of life.