Temperance

 I thought I was helping you,

But I was also hurting myself.

It's not your fault that I chose to go out.

I had to sink before I could swim again,

And the other side is like a first breath.

What am I forgetting?

I don't know anymore.

But I feel that my hands are empty

when it should not be so.

I'll have to gather the forgotten pieces later.

What do we do when

No one is in control?

How many times can we start over

before judgment day?

Will a spark burn down our progress,

Or 

Can we endure long enough to see the roots flourish.