"Another Phantom"

Sometimes I feel like the phantom,
down there in his catacombs,
hidden from the cruelty of hearts,
yet still affected by the very thought of love.

A song echoes through the chambers,
and I suppose it beckons me,
much like it called out to him,
when he first heard the music of the night.

I arise and go forth like a shadow,
moving among curtains of visibility;
her voice fills the hall of my heart
resounding words of love in escalating rhythm.

She stands upon her stage of emptiness,
and I wonder if she knows how evident
her longings have become,
and will she ever see me hidden behind my mask?

I would love to lift this cold, vicious veil
that seperates me from the world,
revealing the affection I hold for her,
though she's never felt my presence the way she does his.

My dear version of Christine,
am I nothing more than another phantom,
to pine away the hours in darkness,
dreaming of the one who doesn't know I exist...