“Bon Voyage” 3 – 10 – 10
In The Breath that Is Time, Foreseeing Only The Split Ends, Decayed Lines that Sprout From A Scalp, Mourners of Passing Joy and Pain.. Extend to Become the Wearful Marks Upon A Mask, Cover A Grisilled Truth.. Harboring More than Any One Sea Has Carried, Oil Slicks Seeping to Kill All Beautiful Thoughts.. The Tears Shed Are Merely Vessels of Regret.. Not All Can Be Saved, When Lightened by Joy and Burdened with the Same.
Grisilled = Grisly, as in a Raw or Rough Truth…. i leave this one open to interpretation, believing it to be obvious but not wishing to constrain it to one definition.