Disclaimer: I do not own POTO. But, then, neither do you, so we're even.
(Author's Note: Okay, just so you know beforehand, this poem is not like others I have written. It is not about romance or sadness. It is about plain fear. Unfortunately, I discovered a rather horrific version of 'The Phantom of the Opera' and I was deeply shaken. This is the product.)
Turn Away
In blood it seems you are doomed to wallow
And if you do, I cannot follow
What can there possibly be for me
In the horror created by thee
I stare at my hands, trembling and white
I know that I am too weak to fight
Panting, gasping, yearning for air
It's pointless for I am caught in your snare
My eyes are wide with horror and fright
Why would I not hope for the light?
Escaping from you is all I should crave
To my bleeding heart, I should not be a slave
Yet even in this darkened place
With your horrid deeds and monstrous face
My love for you does not die
I cannot bear to say good-bye
God knows that I feel much fear
And yet, to me, you still are dear
My love cannot be held at bay
I know I shall not turn away
