A Ghost Story

Angel of Iowa

My mother denied me any touch;

I guess she thought it all too much.

My mask, the first cloth I wore:

I never deserved anything more.

And then one day I chose to flee,

Thinking I'd at last be free.

I woke the next day in a cage,

Victim of a gypsy's rage.

I prayed to God upon each morn,

But I was always left forlorn.

Why am I cursed to be alone,

And never know a happy home?

One night, in the enormous city,

I see two eyes, filled with pity.

The gypsy lies dead upon the floor;

I could not bear it anymore!

She takes my hand and pulls me along;

The mob follows, their bloodlust a song.

Through a window, she bars it behind;

It's enough to boggle the mind.

How can I, the Devil's Child,

Associate with one so mild?

I live now in the caverns deep,

But demons haunt me in my sleep.

The years have passed, now I'm a ghost.

Haunting where it's needed most.

Each day blends into the next,

With each new thing that leaves me vexed.

Then one day, I hear a sob,

One that causes my heart to throb.

A sobbing girl, a tiny thing,

Sits beneath an Angel's wing.

Oh, my child, what is wrong?

What tragedy wrought this mournful song?

My father is gone, now I'm alone,

Abandoned on the music's throne.

Are you my Angel of Music? She asked.

Not me, child; not with my past.

But I'll try to soothe your troubled soul;

And we'll see what the future holds.

From Devil's son to Angel light,

And a little girl now happy and bright.

Her voice is clear and crystalline,

I'm not your Angel, you are mine.

Feeling blooms in my heart of stone,

At long last, I'm not alone!

Though she will never see my face,

She blesses me with her inborn grace.

But then, one day, I take a chance,

And she has them all under her trance.

Her voice is high, and clear, and pure,

And all will love her evermore.

What is this? Who is this boy,

Who comes and dares to steal my joy?

No matter; I steal her away,

Never to see the light of day.

Her we are, in my realm below,

Candles surround us with their glow.

When I show her the wedding dress,

She faints; into my arms, no less!

Upon a bed of silk she lays,

Her beauty leaving me in a daze.

All is quiet, five levels deep,

And yet I find I cannot sleep.

Her beauty always haunts my mind,

A melody, I cannot find.

The notes, the rhythms, they will not fit;

Until finally I must quit.

I feel her touch upon my shoulder;

Oh, what I would give to hold her!

But suddenly my mask is gone,

And with it goes our joyful song.

I lead her back up to the surface,

Knowing now I have no purpose.

Upon the vanity I leave a rose;

A reminder of the path she chose.

On the roof, I see her tears,

Am I the root of all her fears?

I retreat to my cold domain,

And my tears begin to fall like rain.

I hide above her father's grave,

Hoping now my soul to save.

The fool rides up on his white horse,

And leaves me seething without remorse.

I join her upon the stage,

Yet all fall victim to my rage.

I drag her down back to my lair;

Look at us; what a pair!

You meet my mouth with your lips,

And you grant me my first kiss.

For the first time, I feel guilt,

For I've destroyed all I have built.

My Angel wipes my tears away,

And I beg her with me to stay.

She swears she will be my wife,

'Til God decides to take my life.

Oh my Angel, from heaven above,

I cannot believe it's me you love.

On the day you become my bride,

All my suffering falls aside.

Oh, my darling, I love you so,

And you love me! Even though,

Your life will far outlast mine,

I'll wait beyond the span of time.

Now as you take your last breath,

And slip into the embrace of death,

I shall hold you once again,

Just as I did way back then.

Angel, you have heard my cry,

And you have taught my soul to fly.

Holy Angel, in heaven blessed,

My spirit longs with thee to rest.

A/N: Hello there! I hope you're all enjoying my latest project. I've never been much of a poet, so I'm honestly surprised at how well these are turning out to be. The next one is going to be from Meg's point of view, and is about halfway done. School's almost over, (wooo!) so I should have more time to write, barring any sudden loss of my muse again. Oh, and just so we're clear: no, Erik didn't kill Christine. He'd never hurt her. He died several years before she did, because of the age difference, and he's waited for her from beyond death. Please review, the next chapter, as always, will come faster if you review. And there's at least five of you who are following me personally, and not just Phantom and the Siren, so do it! Peace!