Mania is like a wave,
High tide, and I'm drowning.
I take on water, feel it fill my lungs.
As the pressure builds, I fade into white.
I'm riding the wave, a ******* tsunami.
But no, that's not quite right,
I'm a part of the wave, this rage,
This powerful force of insanity.
And there lies the shore, closing in.
If I was of right mind, surely,
I would at least hope to cry pardon.
But I'm not, I see the imminent crash,
Only laughing, maniacally.
With thunderous approval the shoreline
Falls, within the vast ocean beneath me.
When the waves pick up,
When they come crashing down,
They ring with power, but mostly pain.
So I'm left in this basin of contamination.
The sewage of mind eats away the euphoria,
Leaving cancerous tumors of depression.
Now growing rampant, and lingering.
The tide in time recedes, the world grieves.
Sometimes there is healing, though often
There is only suffering and the waiting.
Knowing for any better or for worse,
The tug of war between the shores
Of mania and depression, goes on.
