A/N: This isn't too good, it just flushed to my mind, just don't care about it, but maybe you could review it?
I don't own the Phantom, nor Madame Giry.
Evenings in the Catacombs
I knock on your door
But there's no reply
The darkness cries with me
And knocks and knocks
In my head
You're there
All the time
Your eyes
I bent down to sleep
Alone, in my catacombs
Surrounded
By monsters of my phantasy
They taught me how to sing
They taught me how to break
They taught me how to destroy
But not how to love
That, my Madame,
Was you with your
Warm eyes and your voice
And, finally
The darkness catches me
I will never tell you
Never relief my aching soul
Because you're worth more
Than my scars can give
I wish you a good night
Full of soft sleep
And hope that someday
You will find your love, your dream
Alive, in the present
Maybe
Me?
