That your conscience is clear,
from you I often hear,
without shades of fear,
when you are made to face
your acts’ consequences
that make up offenses.
But, to me, all such defense
needs to be searched for sense,
because what is conscience
but pretense of vague kind
conjured up in your mind,
you think no one can find.
You can not hide away
evidence clear as day,
truth soon will find its way,
Justice, though with blindfold,
weighs all the proofs so cold
and soon will wield her sword.
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