Wordplay March 30

At the altar of my discontent,
I bob and weave,
Through the web of deceit,
That rings more true than anything before it,
I struggle to see through the mist,
As I roam through thoughts of yesterday,
And beliefs of tomorrow,
Grounded in nothing,
And everything all at once,
The labyrinth of my mind,
A maze from which I am attempting to emerge,
Reborn,
Christened like a new born baby,
Praising at the church of words,
As I ascend,
The staircase of my soul,
On to another place,
Far from here,
And yet,
Right around the corner.

SDM