"This Phantom of the Opera…"

A Poem Dedicated to Erik, the Phantom of the Opera

He is like a child inside,

This "Phantom of the Opera"…

A little boy who is frightened,

Who dares do naught but stay silent,

And hide.

This "Opera Ghost" whom we all fear

Wears a mask because he is hiding…

Like the little boy that is inside him,

Who does not want to be seen.

He may appear to be a fiend,

He may act like a detrimental imp!

Yet believe it or not…

In reality,

Though it seems quite the contrary,

He is like a child inside.

He has not felt this feeling of love,

He has never felt the sensation of being caressed or kissed!

So many experiences we have had,

He had simply missed.

He was deprived!

Deprived of…

Little pleasures we have in the day,

Feeble joys we have in the night.

We take it for granted,

But have you ever thought of him?

These things we take for granted,

He begs to experience…

This Phantom of the Opera

Is still deprived,

Of the simple things we enjoy in life.

For his life is filled with jeopardy and strife,

Because all people can see of him is…

The monstrous face he has

On the outside.

People scream when they see him.

Alarm they become, judgmental to be, they hasten!

They run, they hide,

They recoil in trepidation!

They do not care for what he is:

He is a human being!

This Phantom of the Opera,

Is a human being!

No…

To them, he is not human.

He is the work of hell.

A monster that has no feelings, a fiend that has no heart…

A predator that seeks prey, not for survival, but just to rip and tear apart.

No one wants to see him.

No one wants him alive!

They just want to have something so repulsive, so terribly hideous,

Away from their eyes.

Nothing as disturbing and disgusting like him deserve to live a life

Amongst normal people like everyone else!

That is what they say of him.

Every day, day and night.

Every time, morning to evening.

Every where, in the opera house and in the marketplace.

This is what people see of him.

They never think of his condition:

His mind, his body, his life, his feelings…

"Oh, a monster like him can never have feelings!" They say!

Really now? No feelings at all?

He can feel hate, can he?

Why then does he kill?

Why then does he terrify the guests that come to see the operas?

And the actors who participate in them?

"Because he is a cold-hearted and sickened beast, of course!"

That is their response.

Oh, how people laugh when they talk of him.

Oh, how people writhe in fear when they think of him.

They abide by his rules at first…

When they do not, he simply sends them notes.

Their obedience is an illusion!

Really they want to kill him and throw his already disfigured body into a trench…

Hypocrites!

Hypocrites are they, the whole lot of them!

This Phantom of the Opera knows

And he confronts…

With no fear in his heart at all.

"Wait!" You yell.

"Does he even have a heart!?" You ask.

"No, he does not!" Most would declare.

"Yes, he does!" That response is highly rare!

What do you think!?

They always say no, he does not have a heart.

He is nothing but a leech of the opera house,

Creeping about the place,

Clever as a fox, and silent as a mouse.

He should be destroyed.

Someway, painless or not.

Somehow, by the sword or pistol.

Sometime, today or tomorrow…

No one has the courage, however.

To meet the Phantom, face to face.

They make it seem like such a simple task and case,

But.

Even just a glimpse of him will petrify anyone!

Why all this talk of killing him?

You say it as if it's an everyday matter!

Do you realize that you are plotting to kill a person?

Or has the status of human by no means held up for him?

The slight thought of him actually being a human, has it slipped your mind?

And hid itself in the many corners of the infinite spaces in your futile brains!?

This Phantom of the Opera…

He has a heart, and he has blood,

Blood not meant to spill for the good of your terrified mind.

Eyes, he has, that with some happiness can freely shine.

He has feelings, they are just hard to express,

All because his whole life has been a complete mess!

Just give him the chance to feel this thing we call happiness,

For once in his life.

He may have the body of a man,

And a terrible face to ban,

But he's just a boy with nowhere to go.

Not a mother or father to tell him no,

And no conciseness for him to follow.

He's just a poor lost child in a man's body.

Do not reject this lost child…This Phantom of the Opera.

Let this Phantom approach you...

Show him something you take for granted.

He is still a human, a breathing thing.

Look at the stories and music that he could bring!

Just let this Phantom approach!

No, he can not draw closer to you,

You let him not, you can't.

You're too terrified, too frightened, too scared.

And yet, no matter happens,

He goes back to his miserable being.

Either plotting revenge to take a life,

Or weeping on the floor, grieved by his dreadful sight.

This Phantom of the Opera,

Though it may not seem,

Is vulnerable and weak.

Security is what he needs, and he yearns enough to seek.

This Phantom of the Opera may be like a monster, like always said.

But look at his face, behind the mask.

Look at the face behind his face.

Behind his mask, behind his face,

You will notice,

You will see that…

He is like a child inside.

This "Phantom of the Opera"…

Just a little boy who is frightened,

Who dares do naught but stay silent,

And hide.

This "Opera Ghost" whom we all fear

Wears a mask because he is hiding…

Like the little boy that is inside him

Who does not want to be seen…


Finé