Gray waters

There is a graying that comes with aging. The limitless shades of hair we possess as a peoples begins to diffuse into one gray sea of the forgotten. Our youthful visages, once chiseled and smooth, become haggard and fallen. Gone are the head turns and cat calls. A different force begins to drive us forward in our day to day. Was I ever young? I’m no longer sure. As my power fades, and my memory grows hazy, I’m not sure if I have misplaced my worldly importance, or if I had a misplaced sense of identity. We are all caught in the same cruel riptide. Struggle as we may, we are pulled out into the gray fog that swallows us up, and drowns us in our own hazard filled waters. I pray I fight in the face of foregone conclusions, my own gray a badge of honor for this worldly passing.