Disclaimer: I do not own phantom of the opera.

THE REAL MUSIC OF THE NIGHT

A Poem by Comet7

Is Erik really dead?

Go outside tonight,

If it is not too cold.

And listen.

Shut out the sounds from inside.

The sounds of cars passing by.

The sound of barking dogs.

And listen to the wind.

Whether it is howling like a thousand demons,

Or whispering like a falling leaf.

Can you hear him?

Can you hear his voice in the wind?

The wind is his voice.

The trees and grass, his instruments.

Can you hear him singing sweetly?

His voice carrying over the land?

Whether it is joyful and triumphant,

Or sad and gentle.

A song to quell the fear of night.

Not to dispel the darkness,

But to enrich it.

Perhaps,

If you listen quietly,

Perhaps you will hear it.

The real music of the night.