Stream

sometimes a word emerges

out of the silent stream

that runs beneath opinion

illusion of the waking dream

we are not what we seem

something prevents me looking

it must be for the best

but still the half-heard whisper

reminds me that i've failed the test

to know your own unrest

i know a choice is coming

for peace or honesty

pour concrete on the footprints

from everything that you might be

love will set you free