A/N: For my English class, I had to write two poems about two different people, based on the book of poems Spoon River Anthology by Edgar Lee Masters. We had to write the events leading to the person's death from his or her point of view, serving as a sort of epitaph poem. I chose to write for the Phantom and Christine.

Now I'm no poet, but here's my extended poem dedicated to the Phantom. The next chapter will be from Christine's point of view, and it's considerably shorter than this one. Oh yeah, and I'm sorry if the format is messed up, it won't let me make separate stanzas. is all screwy on me right now.

Erik

(Surname unknown)

A face, disfigured from a birth complication

Made me not a human, but a monster,

Rejected and scorned by the world

And despised by my own mother

Whose only gift to me was a mask to conceal

my disfigurement.

Retreated I to the dark and cold depths

Of the labyrinth beneath the old opera house.

For many years I dwelled there,

Drowning in my misery and sorrow,

Hating the world for its evil deeds,

Living through my music, my only love,

Meanwhile satisfying my lust for vengeance

By haunting and torturing those who dared to enter

my opera house.

Until the night I came upon my Angel of Music,

my Christine,

The only one I loved with a passion

Which exceeded that of my music.

Secretly I incessantly watched her,

Stunned into silence by her ethereal beauty

And her young and inexperienced yet exquisite voice

But she, merely a chorus girl, had a marvelous potential

Which was witnessed only by myself.

And so, I presented myself to her at last,

Proposing to be her tutor, her confidant

At no cost to her-

Promising her fame and unprecedented success,

And with slight trepidation she accepted.

I took her under my wing, entrusted her with my music,

Bestowed upon her the Music of the Night,

Falling more deeply each time I gazed upon her,

Craving so to touch her porcelain skin,

To taste her sweet, rosy lips,

To hold her warmth against me.

But I refrained,fearing thatshe was not ready

for me.

She reaped the benefits of my teaching and plotting,

Growing more distant from me

As she blossomed into a Prima Donna.

I disappeared from her life,

Allowing time for her to adjust to her new life

Out of the unwavering devotion I possessed for her

in my heart.

But many a week later found her in the arms of another,

A handsome young suitor

Who was everything I was not

And who vowed to protect her from the likes of me,

The terrifying, malevolent phantom of the opera house.

He reawakened that thirst for revenge within my soul

That had perished with the entrance of Christine,

Like a quiescent fire rekindled.

And so, cloaked in garments of crimson,

Parading as the accursed Red Death itself,

I revealed myself to all at their annual Masquerade,

And stole from the gala their newest jewel

From directly beneath their upturned noses.

I whisked my Angel away into the night,

Bringing her Down Once More to my dungeon

In the depths of hell,

Where she would be mine for eternity.

Reacting with brutal anger,

She cursed my name, proclaimed her hatred for me.

But, lo, as I begrudgingly shared my story,

Her anger evolved into pity

And I glimpsed a sense of compassion within her,

Reminding me of the old nights

When she would sing with me my music

And calm my bitter, angry heart.

But, behold… slicing through the moment like a knife,

Her lover came to her rescue;

He the hero, I the villain;

We played our roles well.

I grinned madly, I had known he would come.

Before either of them could blink,

I held his life in my hands-

It was all too easy.

I ruthlessly forced Christine to decide

Whether to spare her lover's life

And share her future in the darkness with me,

Or to let him die as she fled unscathed.

I laughed at her hesitation,

Cackled at her lover's pathetic attempt

To convince her that he would desire not to live

Knowing that she belonged to me.

"You make me impatient!

Make your choice!" I screamed at her,

To which she replied with a surprisingly calm silence.

Closing her eyes, she prayed for courage,

And then performed a miracle.

Throwing her arms about my neck,

She kissed me passionately,

Whispering in my ear that I was not alone,

And I swear that if the heavens above were to part,

I would be oblivious, so immersed was I

in the Angel's kiss.

When we parted, I let her lover go without a word,

And they escaped into the darkness together.

I suffered a lonely death days after,

Memories and thoughts of Christine swirling

within my soul.

So tortured was I by my crimes against her

That I prayed for the first time ever,

And begged for my Angel's mercy, for her

eventual forgiveness.

And now, my only regret as I lie in the cold ground

(For me an undoubtedly fitting abode)

Is that she could have heard the words

That had lingered on my tongue for so long:

Christine, I love you.