All the walls are perfectly round, smooth, yet cold with that feel of
steel. You yell, no sound, but reality holds, for all of this to
seem real.
You look to the top, to an endless sight, a blackened
dark with a damping bark moving in to bite. You try to relate to
the existence, but you find there is no resistance. That's when
your hair rises in the hot summer night.
You become awake, you become aware. Flick the switch
for heavens sake, to find out what is there. You make no sound,
for all the walls are perfectly round.
