(no subject)

[fantome-d-opera.livejournal.com]

He enters from the front door. Should someone look out, they would see a room which is only distinguishable by its lack of feature. Grey walls, ceiling, floor. A grey piano, identical in visible texture to the surroundings. Grey bench, grey cat-pillow on the floor under the piano. A few touches of color. The fur on the pillow is cream and cinnamon. Parchment is creamy yellow. A quill pen in white, black ink.

Ayesha is draped lovingly around Erik's shoulders, sleeping. He is glancing at the piece of parchment in his hand as he steps into the bar from purgatory.

It is the darkness within
Which makes the light hurt
Yet to exist without light
Is to freeze.

I walked too long in the dark
And my soul lost so many things
Is it too late to turn
To the sun?

In reaching for life I
Reach for the light
And redemption comes
On hints of summer wings.

The warm touch of a hand
On ivory keys
Liquid sounds of dawn
In the night.

Darkness seduces with
Promises of safety in
A world which doesn't
Understand pain.

The light is often cruel
Hard and burning
Brightly illuminating
Flaws and sins.

Yet without it we freeze
And in my final hours
I turn weakened eyes
To the sky.