Beyond the Mist, what you cannot see
The sound of waves crashing infinity.
Chiseling away at stone
Since the beginning of time
Truth, half-truths, lies – all intertwined
What you’ll get at the end
Of the falls before the river bends
Is the hope of free-flowing ideas
As fine as the sands below.
The moment we try to silence speech
Is another moment Liberty’s pushed out of reach.