Grey
Death by itself is grey... Singing songs of itself to people; reminding them of the good and the bad they could before they cease... How might it be that death is so frowned upon when it might just be the finish line to a race that you win with a smile of accomplishment... Accomplishments that remain in the hearts of your people way beyond your existence... Why is Death that siren that crashes you against the rocks when it might well be the eternal sash of greatness that adorns you... The thought of cessation seeks to be a driver of good while we are caught in the claws of the seeming omnipresent chaos...