The Phantom of the Opera
A figure in shadow, a deathly shape,
A masked villain in a black velvet cape.
All he knows is loneliness and fear,
His world is darkness, his past is unclear.
Met with scorn wherever he appears,
His love is a whirlpool of wasted tears.
He lives for her, he creates beauty for her,
Writing his music with a lovesick fervour.
His masterpiece music sends him up through the sky,
Away from the hate and the fear in her eye.
She returns his love and gives him her grace,
She gives him her all though she sees not his face.
The faceless mask that he uses to hide
His scars, the signs of the world that so cast him aside.
Pity causes her tears to fall,
As she gazes at him and hears his love-call.
Her feelings are blind, she can't stay here,
She has to leave him, conquered by fear.
This lonely man, this pitied beast,
Trapped in the dark with no release.
Trapped in a mask to hide his shame,
Never allowed to have fortune or fame.
Lit by candlelight his tears they flow,
As he is turned to blood, his anger does grow.
Who will release him from his sorrow and shame?
She isn't the one, she runs from his name.
This poor young man, this forgotten star,
Behold, the phantom of the opera.
Copyright © Catriona Elizabeth Mowat 2007
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