The water drips from the ceiling as the Phantom walks out of the shadows…

Drip… Drip… Water hits the cold, black stone,

The walls, a cold hard monotone,

Light glistens of the water on the cobblestone,

A the organ plays a note in baritone,

The phantom, almost monochrome,

 

Descending the steps of his staircase in slow motion,

Then, playing the organ with devotion,

Causing much emotion,

Noises in the opera house above, making a commotion,

The Phantom fading away into the shadows between the stair and wall,

Towards the surface, a legacy set in motion,

The legacy of emotions,

 

Chandeliers falling,

Carlotta bawling,

The opera house rotting,

 

The Phantom’s lair still intact in the commotion of the Night,