The Descent
Take my hand and
we'll descend,
we'll descend,
we shall descend.
Christine,
your eyes,
they stare, afraid,
but I shall prove myself yet.
The labyrinth here runs
deep and black;
and were it not for
your angel,
you'd ne'er go back.
No quivering, love,
Erik's hand guides the way,
and perhaps-
with time-
you'll wish to stay.
A/N: Just a little something I threw together one noon while watching the 1925 POTO. I wanted to add more, but this seemed enough, plus everything else I came up with was never as satisfactory to me. If you should review, do so kindly and with notes on how I may improve. Thanks.