No pale regret for what was done,
the presentation to the one -
a true expression of the heart,
exposing some most tender part.

No pale regret for what was done,
no wish for that to be undone -
that truth marked in the log of time,
cannot be logged as some base crime.

An honestly sincere appeal,
a gesture of the soul's reveal.
Was felt was shared without reserve,
was dealt chastise without deserve.

No pale regret for what was done,
hot feelings felt by only one,
yet shared still in the vainest thought
that set feelings might yet be wrought.

That might by passion's sight be swayed,
those tight held feelings might yet fade,
to open up a passage in,
a way for that caught heart to win.

Yet sadly, no wild heart was won -
but pale end to what was begun.
The only win for to so dare:
a seed, perhaps, lies dormant there.