A Bipolar Mind
The full moon kindles a bipolar mind:
like a hunter hard on his prey, the nights
revive a dark, dysphoric mood; then grind
the soul to abject lows from perfect heights.
And when from states of bliss to states of woe
the spirit goes, even a soul born high
longs for eternal sleep where the dead go;
where the departed no more howl or cry.
But if this dire dilemma be the soul's plight,
then it will fight fate with its utmost breath:
though it may succumb to life's hellish flight,
where madness can be an end worse than death!
Some might change, and find some meaning again:
but most adjust, while others go insane.
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