Alone as I walk, these hallowed hallways, wondering who before me has taken this same pathway to wherever , my footfalls muffled within the echoes , like the baron insides of a fallen oak , or the dripping of a wooden faucet , bip , bip, bip , amidst the breeze of these fallen echoes , like rustling leaves in an autumn gust , making a unique sound of chatter , if you start to hone your ears you can actually hear the conversations, words uttered within these confines , that have never left , secrets cradled in time , moments lived , loves lost , heart to hearts , and confidant professions , no faces , just words , I often wonder when I catch a snippet of a dialogue past, to whom it may have belonged , and how it may have ended ,or to what it may have conjured, and as I find myself nearing the end of this hallway , I wonder just how many conversations have amassed between these walls , how many words continue to rebound within this portion of time , and how many others have listened , to the echoes .....To the echoes in the hall .....
