At first they were,
But mere whispers,
Spoken in hushed tones,
Wafting through the corridors
On the wings
Of the unseasonal chill,
Of the summer breeze.

Not long thereafter,
They gathered strength,
Repeated as they were,
By a few hundreds,
So whilst they were
Still whispers,
They were by nature,
And by intent,
Profoundly loud,
And very clear.

As they now reverberated,
Through the same corridors,
Seeking to devour
The lonesome soul,
Who stood alone,
And quite apart,
By themself,
In a dank corner,
Shivering from the chill,
Of the tempestuous whispers.

Image Credit: Photo by Skitter Photo on StockSnap