The color of countless years.

Close your eyes, reminisce the past.

But the echoes slowly fade.

The memories finally vanish.

Gray is the dust on an untouched shelf.

A mind, once sharp, that dulls year by year.

The youthful glow now silently withers.

And the soft whisper of a forgotten name.

A weary storm, aching to rest.

Gray is the past, shaping and shifting.

How we constantly change.

Our vision blurs, like time drifting through the fog.

Slipping quietly into the dusk.

A hush after the final note.