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half-a-face enclos’d in disharmony,
an anti-bliss b’low with blister’d stains.
breaths like steam, seal soak’d
in leather, adorn’d in porcelain.
a face his mother disdain’d.
his image as if twins, one perfect
the other dark soul’d, to the devil yet.

but Christine, lifting fear from her countenance,
braves to brace both palms against his cheeks.
they feel so warm, tender, soft.
they release true love at last.
not the romantic kind
but kindness, a shock
that restarts his heart.

a black rose falls
for a second time,
not in jealousy,
not in bitterness,
not wearing hatred.

the black rose falls onto new snow.
a monster becomes a man.
his heart feels the dagger,
kills his doppelgänger.

he lets her go.
she returns his ring.
he lets her go again.
tears and shatter’d glass
release him once again into the cruel world.

we don’t know where he hides
but a black rose adorn’d
with a wedding ring
appears at her gravestone.

his undying love let her live her life.
he paid homage in the shadows
and perhaps in life after death
he would find one friend.

his opera of romance and terror
ended the night of the swinging chandelier,
the stoking of the flames of hell, where’d
the devil’s horns and tail paid him homage.

recovery of rebirth —
the phantom stirs the lake
in his solitary boat,
no longer afraid of his reflection,
perfection was encased in palms
and lips so pure
and God Himself kissed his forehead.
Welcome son.

3/1/2021

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