the hardest thing to do is forget
my past
this music, a genius that goads me to share
this face, a curse that forces me to hide
my shame
taught by a mother's revulsion
denied the one gift I asked
a kiss
from a mother with love
denied
in this home, too close to the dangers
that I brought
she hated me
but it was not my fault
my fault
and so I fled
this face
catching the perverted lust of others like me
not like me
caged, like a beast, this beast that I spurn
the audience hushed, curtains drawn aside
my voice
it captures them, cleaves their minds to me
accepted, admired, adored
then my mask is amputated
and I learn to trust
that I can trust no one
a fine lessen never heeded
and so I fled
it must be god's great humour that I should love
beauty, as I do
my weakness, in all things
thus, devotion to perfection led me
alone, as always
to work with stone
drawing plans and hauling marble
creating majesty
yet always without
filling holes with concrete, yet leaving my own
gaping hole, empty
empty
until I stumbled, and collided with another
he was my friend
for a time
but curiosity at last snagged his senses, I should have anticipated
betrayal
cornered, he accosted me
assured he meant no harm
yet harming me beyond assurance
my mask
always the unhappy prelude
to an ending, with it torn from my face
exposed
his daughter died
it was not my fault
my fault
satisfaction is bought through knowledge
yet knowledge does not buy satisfaction
and so I fled
this time, without strategy
chancing upon another, an officer, with need
his need, for me to follow
and I do
to Prussia, to the Vizier
as a trinket, a bauble
a magician, with an apparent reputation
capturing their curiosity, temporarily satiating their acquisitiveness
I performed
again, as always
yet now with fearful respect
they watched, offering applause
and more
a concubine, a woman, for my own satiation
who denied me
wept, as I fought to understand
my lack of understanding
she was killed the next day
but it was not my fault
my fault
I had enemies,
crushed glass in wine, retching blood
beckoning desperately for death
yet I received no fulfillment
I lived
with the unwelcome help of the officer
who had saved me
from the only thing that could have saved me
my reputation withered
and I was sentenced to death
a happy twist
at once, denied
the officer, fighting to complete his task
fashioned a corpse void of history, yet bearing my borrowed mask
becoming my escape
and so I fled, with a nod and a promise
to the only thing worse than the past
my present
this music, offering me the protection of its sound, of its power
this face, barring me from the first person I've ever loved
with abundant time to reflect, I have learned
only one thing about myself
I am sadistic
relentlessly, I hope for acceptance, for the love always denied
and each time, without fail, I am rejected
yet I persist
close my eyes, ready for the next wound
that will never be as deep
as that which I now suffer
she was beautiful
is beautiful
as if she knows my flaw and hopes to exploit it
I found her in the chapel, only three levels above
the dungeons in which I live
in which I die, each day
I visited her there
hiding in the shadows
knowing somehow, yet too enraptured to reflect
that she would kill me
by bringing me to life
yet not knowing that I would do the same to her
It was absurdly simple
we both should have seen
the fatal flaw
she needed the love
lost
from the death of her father, and dearest friend
And I, upon reflection, sought the love
denied
from the weakness and utter cruelty of a mother
the stage was set
yet one vital component was missing
an angel
promised in the final throes of his sickness
by her fever-burdened father
a story made for a child
and a child made by this story
never able to move on
she lived and grew up
in quiet shame and sadness
wondering why her promised angel, her last gift
had forgotten her
what could I do
what else could I do
but lie
her angel of music
a joke, quite simply
yet how simply I employed this farce
I became her angel
teaching her through a prying mirror
watching her
always watching
allowing my eyes to caress
what my hands never would
I gave her my music
the passion that she lacked
the trust she sought
and love
I gave her my love
the first mistake of many
for I was not alone in my worship
oh no
there was another who knelt at her shrine
with a face
a normal, noble, handsome
face
and a future
how could I compete
and would she want me to
I could not hide forever
so I took her with me
down into my dungeon, into my bleak solitude
I touched her hand
she met my eyes
as if I was normal
she looked at me
as if she didn't see the mask
as if she didn't care
I loved her completely then
and knew I'd die for it
what gall, what audacity I had
to bring her down there
to trust her to look, but not touch
however if necessary
to touch, but not destroy
it was folly
when she tore my mask away
the first time
when she sold my trust to quench her greedy curiosity
the dream, the beautiful fantasy
in which we both had been floating
was shattered
the earth shook
or perhaps just my perception
and I learned
to hate her
how dare she rob me
while distracting me with her touch
how dare
she rape my feelings, quash my hope
expose my vulnerability
for now she knew
I was not human
for how can a man
lack a nose
an upper lip
have his flesh be sallow and thin
pulled tightly over a misshapen skull
and still be called
a man
I have learned enough in my years
to know that he
cannot
we looked at each other
and both held our breath
she saw me truly for the first time
no longer veiled with a mask
and I saw her truly as well
no longer veiled with innocence
and in that small breath of time
her angel vanished
as did my muse
I brought her back above
into her own world
and so I fled
at once, to my dungeons
to weep
and curse my naivety
and my loneliness
yet I still loved her
and, woe to me, still longed to trust her
until the kiss
that rooftop surveillance nearly cost me my sanity
how their lips seemed to fit
as he took her in his arms
as if by right
as if his handsome face awarded him
the happiness
I could never have
she humoured me in my presence
and betrayed me in my absence
but why should it be otherwise
who am I, what am I
compared to him
I hated him, and wanted him dead
but it was not my fault
my fault
nor, was it hers
being beautiful, she loved another
and he, being handsome, loved her back
but I would not accede
blinded by love, I fought for her
yet while fighting for her, I was blind
allowing myself to be drawn
from the safety of my dungeons
in constant search of her whereabouts
I hungered to know
though the pain of knowledge would sting
and at last, I knew what I wanted
from her
she would choose
I sought to end my suffering
by demanding this of her
my pain only increased in her absence
for I had given her a day
to choose
and she chose, in the end
the end
of my fantasy
of my life
she left then, holding tight to his hand
and my heart
taking my gondola
and my hope
to somewhere I could not follow
she would be free
of me
of this abhorrent face and this perverse dream
for what else, truly, had I expected
I am a grotesque, mutilated, fetid semblance of a man
of a thing
what else could I expect
except death
that warm, welcoming embrace
I was denied
years ago, cannot be again revoked in
my future
this music, has died, and will not help to carry the pain
this face, that I loathe, is all I have left at the end
of this opera
that no one has cared to divulge
had I known
perhaps I'd have shielded my heart
from this torment
yet the promise of bliss,
of love
so long denied
kept me enslaved, bound to do all for her
to sacrifice all
but what has it bought
my agony
what has it purchased
an end
to this comedy
and I've proved the fool
by attempting to turn it to
romance
what a dunce, what an ass I am
and in the end
I see it all too clearly
all too late
yet I would still give all
give everything
to see her
one last time
with no ill intent, but only to look on her
and say goodbye
she never said goodbye
perhaps I frightened her away
I never meant her harm, would never have dared to hurt her
she knew this
must have known this
for I loved her
this she knew
and at a time, I thought foolishly
that I saw her love
stare back at me, through her divine eyes
what joy, what bliss
to feel this returning love
yet it was my imagination, in the end
for she loved him
as she proved, by leaving me
alone
again, as always
but not in complete misery
for I can feel, along with the bittersweet irony
that my heart is failing
this can easily be attributed to age
my timeline's getting short
yet I prefer the more poetic cause
that my heart is broken
this seems more proper
it hurts to breathe, to drink, to eat
to sing
I no longer compose
what is left for me
without my music or my muse
what have I to live for
yet I have plenty for to die
strangely, so close to the smell of soil from my grave
I blame no one
not my mother for hating me, for it was not her fault
in the end
not the traveling freak show, for they could not help their greed
in the end
not Giovanni, the old man whom I loved, but was betrayed by, it was not his fault
in the end
not the officer in Prussia, for his only concern was my safety
in the end
and, no
not even her, not even
Christine
for she was beautiful, and fate smiles on beauty
she could not help
hating me
it was not her fault
in the end
no matter
this is all in the past, in my past
which will soon be forgotten forever
I go now, I can feel it
my heart, it starts to tremble
down my arm
I'm cold, and yet sweaty
and pain
oh, the pain
and so I flee
at last, where I am welcome
at last, where I am free
and it is bliss