He wore tarnish proudly. br Not like a badge, br More like one of those enigmatic rune tattoos br that littered his skin like checkmarks on a bad students paper. br You know the type... br the piercings, the ink, the punk-red shock of 'hair without boundaries' br br He had meticulously cataloged his every indiscretion, br I found myself leaping to his defense, br but he would have none of that. br 'It's who I am. It's what I've done.' br br Just another River Boy, br A tourist in the dream scape of reality. br He wandered onto the ruins of the unknown.. br As his mind sought out the universe in br the starry skies above. br br He understood the signs br that others are still trying to decipher. br Symbols written in stone with blood, br and messages chiseled on the soul by the wind. br br They say that you can 'catch' a glimpse, br But this is no more possible br Than folding smoke in your fingers. br br The firmer your grip, the less you will hold br br May you find a newer, br gentler path among the stars. br And may it be your trumpet br To herald the end.