The Music of the Night
a poem for our Erik, who needs some love
Beneath the Opera House in Paris
In the cellars, dark and deep
There lives an Opera Ghost named Erik
All he can do is weep.
His face, so distorted
So deformed, it's hardly a face
This is the reason he loathes the world
Why he hates the human race.
He thought Christine had loved him
How foolish, thinking he'd been right
Now he has to stay in his lair
Playing the music of the night.
No, Christine went off with her fop
Leaving Erik to grieve all alone
Everyone, despite what you've been told
His heart is made of gold, not carved from stone.
How do I know this, you ask?
I see you're all skeptics, my friends
I'll tell you how I know this
His story and feelings I'll mend.
We met one fateful night
It was dark, spooky, with rain
I went down to the basement here
And found him, crying, moaning in pain.
He was seated at his beautiful organ
Head down, resting on the keys
When I asked him why he was crying
He faced me, got down on his knees.
And he told me, "Please go away!
Why are you not adjourning?
I said leave,mademoiselle!
Who disturbs a Phantom in mourning?"
I answered, "I'm not trying to disturb you
I just wish to know what's wrong
I was guided here by your music
Why have you stopped your beautiful song?"
He said, "I can't play music anymore
Music has no meaning without my girl
You look a little like her,"
He whispered, touching one of my many brown curls.
I asked him, "What was her name?"
I heard a faint, "Christine…
She was so sweet and innocent
The most beautiful thing I'd ever seen."
I held out my hand, helped him up
And I told him my name
I said, "I am Madlyn Laveau
Please, don't give yourself to shame."
He shook his head, touched my cheek
"But I must not be involved in love
I don't want that to happen again,"
And he gave me a little shove.
I told him, "No, dear Phantom,"
And with my hands I took his
I leaned in, he didn't stop me
And on the lips, I gave him a kiss.
He just held me like that
For so long we didn't part
We were completely connected
Standing with candles in the dark.
He picked me up, laid me in bed
He sang to me, "You alone can make my song take flight
Madlyn, help me make
The music of the night."
I smiled and closed my eyes
I knew it was love at first sight
I heard the notes, I knew he was composing
The music of the night.