Spare me some love, Fidelis—
the way a beggar spares a coin
from the hand of a saint,
or rain spares one roof
while drowning the village.
Give me what you have left
after you have fed the wolves,
after your heart has paid its taxes
to every stranger
who called it home.
I do not ask for the moon.
It has disappointed me enough—
always hanging above the ruins
like a witness too beautiful
to testify.
Give me a cup of your silence.
I have learned to drink from empty things.
I have kissed the rim of absence
until my lips forgot
what warmth was supposed to mean.
Spare me some love, Fidelis—
not all of it.
Only what remains
when the house is quiet,
and the last door closes.

Offline)
Comments2
Beautifully written with metaphor and most poetic lines. Well done
The poem is nicely written i think the persona prefers calmness the silence sometimes love is just unbearable and one looks for that silence cause it has reached a point he or she is begging for love
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.