The Dream Poem by Tyson Schnell

Beyond your mind and within the walls of reality, your thoughts from within begin to flow. These feelings you feel, are they real? Or are they just a fiction story possessing what seems to be a reality. What is portrayed as true is only a figment of your imagination.
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You are flying. Your arms are perceived as a set of beautifully white wings, you are angelic. You are free from all your troubles and worries. Soaring through the clear starry night sky, you are righteous and all powerful. Life is grand.
Now reality settles and fiction is now fact. Your white wings disappear, you are falling. You are high above a streaming blanket of ocean, too high to tell. You are falling; all you can do is panic, so brace yourself... You never hit, you are stuck in mid air. At first you fear for your demise, but now you long for it. Your pleasant, peaceful dream which has shifted into a corrupted thought of fear now has complete control. Now wake up!
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Are you awake? Good. Your mother is coming... 'Good morning sweetheart' your mother is graceful, you look into her eyes and smile at the thought of your first dream. ''Quick, get out of bed, your father is home''. You've lost your smile in a forest of anxiety as the recollection of the nightmare floods your mind.