The only witness to his crimes was, his guilty conscience, he thought he’d, lost his conscience, after he’d done endless number of bad deeds already, but, his guilty conscience had, stuck around.
not my artwork…
The only witness to his crimes was his own heart, and, the more he’d done evil, the burdens on his own heart grows and grows, and now, after endless number of bad deeds, his heart became as heavy as an ironclad anvil, and, he’d, walked around, with this, heaviness in his steps, that he can’t get rid of, or, shaken loose…
The only witness to his crimes was the night, as he’d gone into her bedroom, and done evil things, in the name of love to her. And she’d taken, the consequences of what he’d imposed onto her, and she’s, slowly, dying.
not my artwork still…
The only witness to his crimes is now, coming back for him, as he got closer, and closer to the finishing lines, he kept, looking over his shoulders, and, he couldn’t keep his mind focused on the roads up ahead, and he’d, kept on, bumping into walls!
Life, the Obstacle Course 