The Spectrum's Panorama

I am caught inside this whirlwind again
I feel like I am falling headlong into this
impetuous tornado of emotional
upheaval and unrest.
The feelings are rapid and quick
changing like bolts of lightning.
I swear I cannot breathe.
I feel trapped inside a straight line wind.
Please don't let me fall face first back there again.
Where the highs are like butterflies in the sky
and illusions from my delusions
and mass confusion.
Could swear that I know every answer and solution.
The lows are like bottoms of pits underground.
A subterranean burial of my mind that was sound.
All I hear are sadness and decay all around.
Like I am one of those pieces of metal ripped from its frame in a whirlwind action
and I wind up like a toy car buried under the surreptitious mound.
To wake up free falling in this whirlwind again
that is blowing and tumultuous and raging within.
It is sheer turmoil and disturbance
the spectrum's convergence.

Note; a poem about bipolar disorder