Massive and looming sits the old place,
Its desolate ruins foretell many horrible acts
The barred windows say there was no escape
The heavy metal doors are uninviting, cold
Inside, rubbish and forgotten things lay;
Unused and left behind, the beds are everywhere
A certain stench permeates the air:
Mold, mildew, and rot
The long corridors; now grey, dirty and vacant
Once white, meant to blind the eye
An endless and constant agony
The only reprieve; the brass door knobs
The foreboding doors with locks and chains
Telling of the madness kept at bay
Once sharp objects lay about
Telling of the pain inflicted
A chair with chin and head straps
A table with a black box
Long frayed cables and pads
A metal rod and an ice pick
They say that you can leave
When you are better they say
They say it takes a long time
They say you will leave
The room in the basement
Filled with metal tables
A giant furnace, says
You will never leave
