What it colours without light?

I step into a room
where every wall is shadow stained,
with darkness and with gloom,
where not a ray of light remained.

Ornaments of creatures
with an outline here and there,
but no external features
just the black and blackened air.

Swords I feel on tables
that must once have shone with pride,
but their beauty now but fables
for their gleam the darkness hides.

I touch a mirror feeling
where reflections once there was,
and faces stared, still seeing
their own eyes within the glass.

A painting in a frame of wood,
was once a masterpiece,
is now a mass of shadows stood,
a paintbrush dipped in grease.

I stand there still within that room
of worthless things of night,
the air is spun from dark and gloom
for what is colour without light?