The Phantom Of The Opera
He brushed his rose gently on my lips
The Phantom Of The Opera
On a visit to the opera,
where they say the Phantom’s ghost appears,
He came to me in the restroom,
his presence electric,
a rose in hand,
whispers of passion igniting the air.
He pulled me close,
lips brushing,
a taste of dark desire,
his eyes a promise of endless nights.
But in that moment,
I felt the pull of two worlds,
and I refused to follow.
With a sigh, he vanished,
leaving me in silence,
a haunting echo of what could have been.
I feel his breath on my neck,
the warmth of his touching goodbye,
Alas, our worlds are far apart,
but the kiss still lingers on my lips,
his touch forever in my heart.
About the Creator
♿ V+ Marie381Uk
Poetry has lived in me since childhood.
Ink spills the feelings words fear to say.
My poems heal, some haunt, all are pieces of me.
Stay and read please. Like&follow me. If my poetry touches your ♥️ maybe leave a small tip
#Marie381UkWrites
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