The Morning After a Night of Mania

Like an artist with canvas, paint, and brush, how then to illustrate (for you) in words and in rhyme the throes of a bipolar rush? For bookish and reserved, but manic, nerds (like me), when I'm touched I'm inclined to gush all over myself (for the pretty girls, who'd blush like brides on their first wedding night; as I flirtatiously finessed the twirls of their sex-starved libidos with delight). Yet the morn welcomed me with news of disgrace, for I had acted the Lothario with a Gorgon of a maiden:—whose face is that of the Medusa's, the Gorgo! To think, that I was so glad to escape: viewing her with sound mind, I was agape!