The Phantom Of The Opera
He brushed his rose gently on my lips
The Phantom Of The Opera
On a visit to the opera,
where they say the Phantom’s ghost appears,
He came to me in the restroom,
his presence electric,
a rose in hand,
whispers of passion igniting the air.
He pulled me close,
lips brushing,
a taste of dark desire,
his eyes a promise of endless nights.
But in that moment,
I felt the pull of two worlds,
and I refused to follow.
With a sigh, he vanished,
leaving me in silence,
a haunting echo of what could have been.
I feel his breath on my neck,
the warmth of his touching goodbye,
Alas, our worlds are far apart,
but the kiss still lingers on my lips,
his touch forever in my heart.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (2)
I love the show so much. I've seen the film and read the novel, but I think the broadway version blowed me away the most. Great poem.
I loved this broadway show and you have done it justice! Bravo!