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.