Phantom Ballad
we had to write ballads for literature based on a literary work. i therefore picked one we did not cover in class and my teacher said fine. so of course i wrote one for phantom.
Born to a mother
Who gave up her place
Just because of
The sight of his face.
Grew to have no one.
Wanting a friend.
Would give up his life’s work
To find his in the end.
Fled from the gypsies
To architect in Rome.
Horrid accidents occurred
And to Persia he would soon call home.
Grew to find someone
Just to loose them again.
Would give up his life’s work
To find love in the end.
Toys for the khanum
And tortures produced.
Soon to discover
He was just being used.
Grew to have no one
And hated the world.
Too immersed in his life’s work
To watch his future unfurl.
He fled to Paris
By the darkness of night.
Took to the cellars
To hide the world of his plight.
Grew to want no one.
Did not care for the world.
His life was his music
Until the advent of one girl.
He took to this new arrival
With a flicker of hope.
Thought he would try to love again
And on her he would dote.
Grew to want someone
And soon gained a friend.
This angel of music
Would soon rise again.
One night he would take her
And show her his love.
If not for interference
Of this child’s true love.
Grew to have someone.
The love of his life.
His music would flourish
To gain Christine as his wife.
The opera soon followed
With Christine as its star.
Erik’s work would soon be completed.
That hour was not far.
Unmasked to the hundreds
As this opera’s true ghost
He captured Christine
As for Raoul to not boast.
They fled to the cellars
And a battle ensued.
Raoul’s life would be lost
If Christine proved not to be shrewd.
Their fight would soon be ended
But how was yet to be seen.
Erik’s wish of love had been granted
By the lips of young Christine.
His life that was once torture
Was shown a glimmer of hope.
Not able to keep them,
The lovers were let go.
Grew to love someone
Just to loose her to him.
His heart was now broken
Naught to love again.
Born to a mother
Who gave up her place
Just because of
The sight of his face.
Grew to have no one.
Wanting a friend.
Would give up his life’s work
To find his in the end.
Fled from the gypsies
To architect in Rome.
Horrid accidents occurred
And to Persia he would soon call home.
Grew to find someone
Just to loose them again.
Would give up his life’s work
To find love in the end.
Toys for the khanum
And tortures produced.
Soon to discover
He was just being used.
Grew to have no one
And hated the world.
Too immersed in his life’s work
To watch his future unfurl.
He fled to Paris
By the darkness of night.
Took to the cellars
To hide the world of his plight.
Grew to want no one.
Did not care for the world.
His life was his music
Until the advent of one girl.
He took to this new arrival
With a flicker of hope.
Thought he would try to love again
And on her he would dote.
Grew to want someone
And soon gained a friend.
This angel of music
Would soon rise again.
One night he would take her
And show her his love.
If not for interference
Of this child’s true love.
Grew to have someone.
The love of his life.
His music would flourish
To gain Christine as his wife.
The opera soon followed
With Christine as its star.
Erik’s work would soon be completed.
That hour was not far.
Unmasked to the hundreds
As this opera’s true ghost
He captured Christine
As for Raoul to not boast.
They fled to the cellars
And a battle ensued.
Raoul’s life would be lost
If Christine proved not to be shrewd.
Their fight would soon be ended
But how was yet to be seen.
Erik’s wish of love had been granted
By the lips of young Christine.
His life that was once torture
Was shown a glimmer of hope.
Not able to keep them,
The lovers were let go.
Grew to love someone
Just to loose her to him.
His heart was now broken
Naught to love again.