Tuesday, 3 September 2013

Phantom of the Opera

the face behind darkness, a
face so beautiful no one
could see without turning
to stone,

& the woman so beautiful
she hid herself from those
interested in her gold,

those who would use her
for golden eggs found she
was no where to be found,
she cloaked herself from
gold diggers & those intent
on the profit of her beauty,

she hides behind the veil
of darkness for the pleasure
of her desire to conceal
that which is worth more
than the lives of the Saints,

a woman so beautiful that
to see her beckons the rest
of eternity, she wears a veil
of the shroud of darkness to
respect her jewel of the
desire of suitors,

there a day she was the flint
that those would use her for
fire & not give ash for her
to take wing like the Phoenix,
a day turns to night & she the
mystery that those who took
her use be left like the ash
they stole & she now become
that which leave ash & put
wind beneath her & she the
dark sun, the one blotted to
that which now she hides

mask of midnight, the face
of God & the back of the

the face left behind in the
pond, the smoke rises &
the fumes of sulfur are
given to those who long
for light,

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