Disclaimer: The Phantom continues to reside in the depths of L'Opéra Populaire. I own nothing of him or his heavenly voice.
Through the darkest shadows,
Haunted by the glimmer of the past-
Lay a pitiful soul,
Torn and ravaged-
Betrayed by society's ignorance.
Behind his mask lay the heavenly façade-
Yet the world saw nothing but scars.
In the catacombs beside the lake he dwelt,
Living a life of solitude.
As the Angel sang,
The night erupted with passion.
Beauty sprang from the deepest crevices.
His music mended the broken-hearted,
The innocents longing for affection.
He provided wings to the crippled,
And sewed the hearts that bled with ache.
His voice reflected the beauty within-
For the Phantom of the Opera is always at bay-
Echoing the sounds of a world above~*~*~*~*