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?