grays of blue

but if it all falls apart, leave the past black and white and not gray, so i may be certain, perhaps, that you once were.

There's little joy in life for me,
And little terror in the grave;
I've lived the parting hour to see
Of one I would have died to save.
Charlotte Bronte- On the Death of Anne Bronte.

The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead --
There were no birds to fly.
Lewis Caroll- The Walrus and the Carpenter.