Alright. This is a poem I wrote that took me all of 10 minutes. It's about Erik and how the world disgraced him for his face when he was really quite brilliant. I sort of compared it to the idea of "god is everywhere" yet...I am a pagan. So I put it in a different way if you get my meaning. NO I AM NOT CALLING THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA GOD OR ANYTHING OF THE SUCH. Just a way to get the point across you shouldn't "judge a book by its cover" because you never know what's inside. Just read it and you'll understand. AND I DISCLAIM RIGHT NOW I DON'T OWN PHANTOM OF THE OPERA.
The Shadows-
To the shadows he fled. To the shadows he fell.
The only place that allowed him to breathe.
Delving him back into his own private hell.
The only place where the world let him be.
His face was his madness. His face was his pain.
The scars not as deep as those in his core.
No point in his life. Inside he was slain.
Even though his heart had the power to soar.
"No", said the mortals. He's not worthy to see.
The moonlight shown as his only friend.
"He's too ugly for power", the mortals decreed.
He was no mortal, but Olympian send.
A god in himself. Of music divine.
Mortals declined their god once again.
What was poor Erik, if not a sign?
The test of time failed and shamed.
So when will be such a test of love?
Just watch for every outcast and forgotten dove.