When manic, I think, feel and act like God—
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like Superman or the world’s savior;
the rush from feeling like a demi-god
makes me believe I am a conqueror,
like another Alexander the Great!
Then I’m flung to the dark abyss of hell
when my wild moods now suddenly abate
and rapidly repeat that I can't tell
the bottomless and profound lows (which start
from these ecstatic, Olympian highs)
from these peaks which then make me fall apart
as this dark disorder intensifies:
delusions of grandeur of my bipolar
go from my highs to my states of dolor!
"To have the soul of a poet is to feel with the mind, and to think with the heart."