Recantation

If I could cleave this hopeless sky
or a few incisions could I make
what lies beyond may sooth my soul
or wearier it may render me
it is indeed a purgatory
a blunt knife I listlessly wield
and myriad doubts unhinging
night's rodents gnawing at my grit
the rope still hangs over yonder
a short climb and I'll reach a place
a place I climbed down from, a year ago
and vowed I'll never visit again
this tilt in balance is enough though
I go running back to the rope again
while pride outweighs the want for love
foreboding it certainly can't