The Magic Place
Into a world past golden doors
Crystal chandelier crouching, cowering upon the floor
Crashing thunder of organ chords
Sweeping music, a siren’s call, to claim a soul
Exploding flames, the taste of gunpowder fills the air
The ending’s bitter, salty tears
Playbill pages, a theatre-goers perfume
Intermingles with crisp anticipation
Velvet seats like pink roses
The slipping, silken tassel on the program
His surrounding presence, like the Phantom he portrays
The curtain falls; a loving heart will sorrow kill.