Deluging my mind or deluding it

I couldn't tell the distinction

I too often wonder

If what has beleaguered my mind is fiction

I think and ponder

But with no conviction

All what's been in my mind brimming

Is all what is becoming inexorable with moment

For I do not have recognition

Of what is and what is not

Of what has been hinged and what is histrionic

Is this all but an ingrained component

Is it me or is it all endowment

It is what no time could heal

So am I what I feel

I do not understand

Not yesterday, not today and maybe not ever

I stand and so does all what inundates

Maybe it's fate I tell myself

I do not comprehend

And maybe it's too much to demand.