Disclaimer: The Phantom of the Opera belongs to Gaston Leroux and Andrew Lloyd Webber. Darn...
Erik never did anything without having a meaning behind it. He took time to think things through, very carefully. He had a reason for anything and everything he had done in his life.
He stopped the soft playing of his organ to pick up the rose that he had placed above the keys. The petals were spread wide, colored with a deep blood-red. It was freshly bloomed; a perfect form of natural beauty. No one seemed to understand the meaning behind the roses. The rose was a symbol of himself, and it contained a secret message.
The petals were his body, as well as his heart. The petals themselves are soft, and must be handled with such tender care to not tear them. You must touch them carefully, slowly.
The color is of the blood that runs through his veins, and the passion within his heart that no one cared to see. The petals, as is the love he had given to others, are short lived. Soon after being in the prime of youth, after budding and spreading, the petals become brittle, and die. With the ageing of mortals, their bodies break down and eventually die. His time was coming soon.
The stem was the foundation; the only thing holding the petals up. The foundation of a person was not their body, but their will and their spirit. If a person has a weak spirit, it doesn't matter how strong their body is; the body will not work is the person does not want it to. Erik believed that his will was strong. After all the years of persecution, he did not circum to his bitterness. Well, not entirely.
The thorns were a warning. They told the person that they had to be careful. This was their way to protect the petals from destruction. Erik's warnings were not visible, in a way. They were his actions; they only became tangible after they came to fruition.
He once believed that people would recognize and avoid his thorns, thus allowing them access to gently reach his heart. He learned that they would never understand this, so he changed his idea. His thorns kept people away; they told the warning of the destruction of others if they came too close.
The black ribbon was his own adaptation. The color of black can be a sign for different things; it can be an omen of death or of evil. Not to Erik. Black to him was the color of the night. The night could not hurt him
All together, the rose told his story. The rose was his vulnerability; his insecurity. It told people to be careful; for their sakes, as well as his own. If people would listen, maybe they could hear it.
A/N: Please review!