Tragic Reflections

A Phantom of the Opera Poem

By Don Juan's Read Death

Darkness does consume me, its shadows they are sweet.

And from my organ bench I am lifted to my feet.

From my lips that cursed song rings so very deep.

In the darkness of my mind, my pain shall never sleep.

"No more talk of darkness..." The handsome boy did say.

As his gentle voice took you away that day.

You did not care to notice, you did not turn to see.

That his words, had cut so deep, so deep inside of me.

"I'm here, nothing can harm you..." were the charming words he spoke.

And as I heard each syllable I knew my heart had broke.

From behind a statue I listened to you plead.

your voice so soft and childlike caused my heart to bleed.

You sounded so alone, so afraid and so downcast,

That as I listened I was sure each breath would be our last.

I watched his eyes, beguiling blue search the rooftop space,

Until at last they came to rest upon your lovely face.

"Christine... Christine..." sings the boy in a tenor soft and slow.

You glance about and I repeat in a voice you'll never know.

Your name so soft on my dead lips as I let my passions flow.

In that silent inner voice that you shall never know.

"What was that?" you glance about, your voice tingles with fear,

I watch him as he holds you, my eyes are filled with tears.

You told him of the horrors and of all your fears.

But worst of all you tell him, were my awful, broken tears.

He soothes with his lullaby, so soft upon your ears,

And whispers all the loving words, which you've so longed to hear.

You tell him, you love him and you wish you were free.

As I listened I so longed and wished that it were me.

Me, you loved and wanted to take you far away.

Me, with my Apollo's face out in the light of day.

Though I know that it foolish, for my face it is cursed.

Marked forever as the bastard that my mother birthed.

Every blemish, wrinkled scar and oh how horrible my skin.

Not so unjust as I was told by my unfitting kin.

But it was when I had turned five my troubles did begin.

Mamam pretty as she was, did not love her son.

For I am ugly and for that I was always shunned.

One day when I was curious, I ventured to a mirror,

And if now you think my tears are awful,

Then bear not could you hear, the frightened sobs I uttered then before my mother's mirror.

She came and saw me at the glass,

I begged her tell me this would pass.

That I would have a normal face,

even without charm or grace.

She screamed and then undid her strap,

and I received a stinging slap.

I screamed at her, oh how hard I fought.

A second time, a lesson was taught.

And in tears I was sent away.

I never again saw the light of day.

My aunt, the only one who cared,

came to me, my heart I beared.

And when my tears had finally dried,

She asked me what had made me cry.

I answered her, by asking why.

Why my mother's hand must fly.

and why my face makes her cry.

She said I am not why she weeps,

But the sins in her heart as she feels them creep.

She tells me of my birth father that this is why my mother weeps.

So to save her silently into the night I creep.

I am captured, the men are cruel.

I survived on piss and gruel.

Nine years until the caravan burnt

Yet I am still beaten the scars still hurt.

I kill my master and escape with the help,

Of Madame Giry and her foolish whelp.

They bring me here, the place not old.

But my heart has hardened, turned ice-cold.

Till I saw you weeping, and I knew what I must do.

I gave you my music, and soon gave you my heart.

Even now as I watch you tear it apart.

So I wrote an opera, and the passions burned like fire.

The unsubtle words of my one desire.

That you would be mine,

and to you I would bind,

Our songs forever playing for an eternity's time.

But my mask you took

And now the fire has burned the book.

My home is destroyed,

with my emotions toyed.

And now I have no life,

no not the slightest notion.

So I drink my witch's brew like a magic potion.

The poison tastes sweet ans something glows around my feet.

It is fire and it burns, a voice speaks, my stomach churns.

"Welcome to Hell..." says he with a smile.

I gaze at the devil my eyes going wild.

His voice is cold, he is cloaked in black and so beautiful I feel my heart crack.

"You've returned my son..." says he and spreads burning arms wide

I am frightened I step back.

"S-s-son?" I stammer and he laughs, a noise so chilling that my ears crack.

"Yes my boy you've served me well. You are indeed the true heir to hell."

The fallen angel takes my arm,

his touch burns and I yelp in alarm.

"Bring her." says he and I am confused.

"A girl," he explains," to keep you amused."

The girl he brings does shock me, for she looks so like you.

A smile spreads across his lips as he tells me what to do.

"I cannot do this to Christine." I murmur brokenly.

He pats my shoulder burning me, and in a murmur says, "Christine is not your queen. No indeed it is not she. "

I learn her that Lillith is her name

and at first I think of games,

but I go to her and I find

her skin is soft and cool.

Satan nods and fades away

As Lillith leads me to a pool.

Her form like yours pleases me,

and as we make our love.

I hear her sweet, seductive moans like the coo of a morning dove.

I laugh for me but cry for you.

I'll do what I will do.

My pain will quell for though on earth,

The Vicomte's spell still reigns:

Here in death I am the caster.

Here in death I am the bane.

And I shall have you in this place...

Where my passions swell.

I will be the caster, way down deep in hell.

FIN.

A/N: I'm not really a poetry person so I'm a little nervous about posting this. I worked really hard on it though, so I hope someone enjoys it.