Written by Tiara

A lonely organ sits
atop a trampled floor --
a remembrance of the days
that it had known before.

The keys are beige and broken,
from all the years gone by.
Its melodies will play no more,
for quickly did it die.

The bench that once was able,
now is crumbled to the floor.
The music sheets are burnt and brown
and all the pages torn.

His music now will not be heard
by anyone's waiting ears.
His passion and his life's work
were drowned out by his tears.

A lonely Phantom waits,
sitting near the door --
hearing silence, seeing darkness,
waiting one day more.

She broke his heart the day she left,
never to return.
He's waited, silent, ever since,
everyday to mourn.

His face is old and stained with tears,
his clothes are worn and gray.
His porcelain mask lays on the floor,
awaiting another day.

"Christine, oh my Christine,"
he calls out in despair.
"Christine, my love, my angel,"
his voice wavers through the air.

Suddenly, a cool wind blows,
and whispers in his ear,
"Angel of Music, my love,
my angel, I am here."

His eyes slowly cleared, 
as he turned to face the door.
The tears that once had stung his eyes
made him tremble even more.

His harpsichord was played once more
to a pair of waiting ears,
and his voice rang true -- a lover's song --
as it washed away his tears.