Shall I awaken a doubtful heart,
and dare persuade it to love again?
Shall I dare to chance the thought,
or leave it to its peaceful slumber?
Shall I promise not to cut another
wound, when before I have wounded?
Of such compassion, have I within?
Uncertainty, is all that I know
Have I the strength to compromise,
and not to do what was thoughtless a
sacrifice, of that I had broken in bitter
times – times when I had been so cruel?
Have I such a strength – a strength that is so?
All that is certain, all that I know, is that
I am willing, but shall my willingness be
enough, when I am but awake from what
had once been my own – peaceful slumber?
— Repentant Malaise - Rueberry