If this room could talk to you,

And on memories dwell;

If these ivory walls could speak,

What stories would they tell?

What suffering have they witnessed?

What injustice did they know?

The tale of the Lost Man –

One of never-ending woe.

I wish that faded painting –

Richly tinted crimson red –

Could tell its tale of terror,

Bitter lies, and cruel bloodshed

Of betrayal, black deception,

And of dark, demented fears;

Of the suffering of the Lost Man,

His eyes dark and wet with tears.