Hypomania - Gazpacho

Discovered far too late that

I must have made you up

And lost the fabric that

I think I made you of

The thoughts that could preserve you fly away

And now they’re gone I see you

Changing

Fading

Disintegrating

Making

A better man than me has thrown the dice

A staff to part the sea

A place in life

Be home a little later

God’s a croupier

I’ll toast the liberator

And quit while I’m ahead

I heard the shadows speak from Plato’s cave

That’s when I knew that I was

Changing

Fading

Disintegrating

Making a better man of me

A better life

Not a fantasy

I’ve thrown the dice