3 February 2013
A lonely spirit that is cast aside, by society's ignorance of thickened hide.
Disfigured they howl, not to give peace as they growl.
Stranger that clipped his wings, not to fly far to better things.
Love is to beckon his name, Esmeralda she was to tame.
Her tassels of rings of dance, your love for a gypsy girls first glance.
Government you must attack, to claim your independence that you lack.
A bell ringer you have only known, was your echo amongst the land you had grown.
Deformed you are named from your hunch, laughter and stares from a wicked bunch.
Darkness was called your grotto, an identity you were named - (Quasimodo)
Blade of rage you defend your love and grotto, through bravery you win, to set free...je vous salue, Quasimodo!!
By MICHAELA. X
Beaut'e De Paris • Opuss № I