There once was a lonely man
Who lived each day in a colourless world
This most unfortunate he had to endear
As he was not born with this deficiency
It was through time each colour slowly departed
However deep within his home
Lies a painting rich with vibrant hues
It was the only thing left with colours he could see
So he locked it in a closet whose key only he would know
He was certain that if one day
He shows the painting to a true companion
The art's magic will permeate
Throughout the room, throughout the house, throughout the World
His vision will miraculously recover
Hence he searched and he searched, only to return emptyhanded
Until a witch came to know about this magic, and wanted it for her own
Disguised as a young maiden, she beguiled the innocent man
With trickery she acquired his key; with evil she opened his closet
And stole away all the colours
To which the man was left blind forever
