Ups and downs

A quiet spark will light the morning air, A sudden rise of joy, a rush, a bloom— A wild belief that life is bright and fair, As grand, impossible visions fill the room. I build bright castles out of sudden light, And plan whole worlds before the midday tide, Convinced that finally I’ve won the fight, With every lingering shadow cast aside. Then comes the turn, the sharp and sudden fall, Where enthusiasm crumbles into dust, And silence thickens, heavy as a wall, Replacing all that brief, electric trust. The high hopes shatter on the bedroom floor; The mind turns inward, heavy, cold, and slow, To linger at the dark, familiar door Where darker thoughts begin to whisper low. The balance sheet is cold, uncompromising, real— A mountain standing tall at twenty-one thousand grand, A debt that hangs above the way I feel, A weight no sudden manic dream can shift or command. The fantasy dissolves against the gray; The figures stay, relentless and severe, While mood swings dance their chaotic, bitter play, Trapped between the ceiling and the fear. Yet here I stand, through every rise and drop, A weary witness to this endless wheel— Waiting for the violent pendulum to stop, And searching for a ground that's simply real.