Forgotten

Heeeello. 12:13 and I'm still going, you'd think I'm a Duracell bunny. Anyhow this poem is not from any particular POV, well, I suppose mine, 'tis about Erik.


A mother cries out

A son is born

A nurse passes out

A doctor mourns


The child has not died

But he should have in opinion

For this baby which he holds

Looks like a devils minion


His mother with indifference

Begs them to destroy

What would become a prodigy

This innocent little boy


The doctor says he's sorry

But this he cannot do

And with that he is gone

To leave her to the truth


So she goes into the closet

And finds a too big mask

And places it on the naked child

Then finds him clothes and a bath


He grows up into a toddler

And she buys him every toy

But there is something that he yearns for

That would bring him even more joy


He wishes to lay

A kiss upon a cheek

But she gives him her refusal

Making his spirits go weak


Finally he is a teenager

Writing the music he will play

His only consolation

To his mothers hating ways


One day she stops to listen

Outside his door ajar

Her gasp is not so loud

But her tears are a visible scar


This son which she wanted dead

could play so beautifully

She asks him what it is he plays

And he tells her his own music simply


By twenty he designs buildings

And can make things more simple

He has invented several objects

That show his mothers dimples


But the only thing she smiles for

Is the money she could make

She sells him to a fair

And her heart it does not ache


He was to originally show the audience

Just what he could make things do

But after seeing beneath his mask

The owner becomes bitter and cruel


He tells him to play his violin

And sit inside the cage

And then reveal his face to them

So the boy pops off in rage


This begins his beatings

And his tortures all the day

Until one day his mind is up

He must finally get away


He kills the guard who watches him

And then he flees

He lives for a while in Persia

Making the Daroga his accomplice


When the Shah has clearly finished with him

He no longer needs to stay

He's decided to go to Paris

Where the Opera plans have been delayed


He helps finish them thoroughly

And has them build a place

Across the water below the building

Into the foundation and brace


Finally his home is complete

And his passages he begins

One leading to the mirror of a room

Where his entertainment would sing


Quite some many years later

He hears a brand new voice

Slightly weak yet made for beauty

Calling the Angel of Music to stop the noise


He comes up the path to find her

In tears over her own life

He gently calls to her

Telling her she need not cry


He begins to help her with his own music

And eventually learns her name

His heart begins to beg for her

To take him instead of the fame


And one day when curiosity takes her

She rips his mask from his face

He pops off but then recoils

For she is clearly afraid


Later the Vicomte comes into the picture

And his mind begins to plot

So he murders again

And again makes the rot


He eventually confronts her

And his reason she steals with a kiss

He foolishly tells her to leave him

And go live a life of bliss


There is not a day he doesn't think of her

His Angel of Music

His little Pandora

His love forever

And his first happy moment.