Anatomy of a Whisper

Traveling through the leaves
working his way through their veins,
absorbing the energy that they had collected,
exiting them just like he had entered them.

He, that intrepid whisper,
who comes from the whisperer’s lips,
ran from ear to ear,
from mind to mind.

He ran carrying beautifully deadly
messages in his blood,
pumping them through his heart
made out of words.

Walking hand in hand
with his wife the secret,
he jumps into unexpecting ears
with his strong legs of hate.

In his lungs he carries
the acrid air of mischief
that escapes through his mouth
and imprisons the thoughts of listeners.

His muscles fill with the ardour
of an evil deed waiting to be done
and his sweat comes out
in beads that scream and cry.

His jaw was strong with anger
at his task that he had been given
by a false moving tongue
that forced it upon him.

One day he, that intrepid whisper,
will deny his duty,
and with his calloused hands
push away the hurtful words that he once carried.

But for now he will continue
to fulfill his ugly quest
and as the years will pass
he will deteriorate and fade until he becomes a rumor.

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