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The witness washed his weary
hands,
of all he'd seen before,
he walked across his tiny room,
and double locked his door.
The vision of her open
throat,
the wounds across her breast,
the burning scream of blood and air,
upon his mind did rest.
No thoughts to go and help her,
no thoughts to save her life,
no thoughts that this dead woman,
had stopped a killers knife.
It's dreadful times we live
in,
others have known it so,
they think they have the given right,
to take a human soul.
The witness washed his weary hands,
of all he'd seen before,
he
walked across his tiny room,
and double locked his
door.
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