(The only complete work. I think it's nice.)

The Opera

Listen to the voice of the Opera
As I tell of what shall be
Within my walls, my sanctuary,
Music spills for thee.

The beautiful sights in my foyers,
My stage and in my halls,
Happen many things and wonders
Inside my sculptured walls.

Music is a prime event
That is nurtured in my care.
The prime event, the wonder
Of the Opera Populaire.

The artists in my presence
Are a operatic treat.
They sing inside my theatre
For the utmost high elite.

The grandeur of the Opera
Will always be with men.
The stories of the Populaire
And the events that happened in.

I hold the secrets of the best
Of people, that is no doubt.
Because I am the Opera
And my life will ere hold out.

I have the secrets of the man
Who lurking in shadow be.
The story of the man
Who lives here, inside me.

The Paris Opera is a sight
of worldwide, high renown.
The secrets will within me lie
Until I am torn down.

But until that great demise
I shall tell you this.
The story of my Erik,
And his love for one sweet Miss.

So stay a while and you will hear
A story in the air.
A beautiful story of Romance
In the Opera Populaire.

(I don't know what I should do. Make more poems and continue the story? Or make a novella...)