Trapped Sound Sleep

Rigid pipelines run up and down
the smooth shining chamber,
wedged in between lines of felt absence
and perfectly rounded circles.

White pearl strewn across the grain tinted
landscape, highlighting the shadow cast,
glinting gold exposed against the backlit
negative darkness, undeveloped as a
newborn photo.

It calls out to me in a sensual tone,
screaming across the void,
voice distinct with no meaning
given when incoherencies crumble.

They speak of an astute history and as such,
a large legacy to follow,
Proud in nervousness, the silence is loud enough
to say volumes untold,

My being comfortingly whispers to the youth,
“Rest in anticipation.
The temperament will fade when I meet you again.”