A haunting reflection on complicity and silence, Silent Witness tries to capture the slow erosion of solidarity in the face of oppression. With each passing stanza, the weight of inaction grows heavier—until it is too late.

They came in the night, but I turned away,
Not my fight, not my place to say.

One by one, they vanished unseen,
Yet I stood still, my hands kept clean.

When the knock fell heavy upon my door,
No voices rose—there were none anymore.