What To Think?

I think continually of those who were truely great,
and on those who weren't that great at all.
Who from the womb remember the soul's history,
although some barely remember breakfast.
Through corridors of stone I travel my mind,
only to find myself at the beginning.
If only I didn't dream up a maze,
a maze of bible stories and blasphemy,
of dogma and ambiguity.

Ostracized for my beliefs,
yet I prevail nonetheless.
I find a door to lead me to the outside,
only to find myself further in my mind.
I travel far to bring me back,
My compliance to the world gives me recognition,
yet it strips me of my freedom.
To me,
the meaning of the world is not even my most difficult of conundrums,
Well what is the hardest question of all?
To me it is,
What to think?