Don't Fall

An Italian sonnet. How I interpret love.

Red lingers within the heart's secret cove.
The door closes
As flutter down the petals of roses
Soaring higher than a dead dove.

Falling as fast as decaying leaves;
Thought you could catch me.
Naive trust set me free,
Only to be left crippled on the ground for the frost to seize.

Red secretes from the wound.
Slashed through the back
As the world turns black.
Joining the departed in their tombs.

So look away and catch your breath
For learning of love is learning of death.