Confusion
I hear it, or rather it is felt
searing through my senses like a wretched
scream from deep within my soul
a line of confusion, and of what makes sense
and nonsense alike. Is it insanity?
no, I think not, for yet I feel too much,
and know too little, but not quite madness,
and not yet grief?
stay awhile, and get to know this, lest I
judge too soon, and bring about my own end.
Insanity? Not quite, it is but a part of me
and not yet the whole of me, dividing my life
into what is real, and what should be
real
it is not a question of faith, but of
faithlessness that has brought me here
and shall I jump over the line
or be pushed?
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