To where we go I know not..
Ever rolling boulders up hills,
Forgetting from where we came:
A king against death
Forsaken by the war man
to roll some stone ever upwards
Finding no way home, no place to go.
death may yet claim us
When it awakens to its terrible power
Is this a blessing? Some solace?
Or a curse?
To accept the end; a crown lost
Or to remember who we are
Rolling some forgotten rock
Or punching the damn clock
Forever darning worn socks
Searching before deaths lock
Why go on? Why?
This purpose is fickle
But so is the sickle.
So roll ever onward
And forget not where we go:
Up.
Sisyphus
in