Gloom and Despair One Bipolar Night

When sick with gloom and wrenching pain, I all alone bemoaned my state like one that had slid back again into despair which damned my fate. Disconsolate beyond midnight, I troubled dear God with my cries as I bore this bipolar plight with burning, red, tear-laden eyes. The night was long—I was distraught; I longed for rest, to help forget this sorrow's hold that's got me caught— like victims of a crashing jet! But I did find solace in this— my family and friends did care; and if I died I would be missed: so I endured the Deep Despair. But then sleep came. And I had peace. In the morn, I woke to arising— Joy broke in and gave me new lease: and thus my life I ceased despising!