Thursday, February 24, 2011

Sisyphus acts a lot like me

A sacrifice would imply I’ve given something up,
But to forgo without a reason,
Outside the cloak of lazy
I have no permission to use such a word,

Another time to open my eyes,
I still see a darkened chamber
Where a brief triangle of light pervades,
Bound by not knowing what else to do,
Arise, awaken,
The day is half way through,

Hours grow strained
And time seems trivial
Information is thrown about
So quickly I cannot reflect
Before the next barrage comes to,

A cyclical persistence and the rut it forms
Endless walks with déjà vu, an automaton I’ve become,
Pushing rocks up the same old hill,
Imprisoned by the actions of a former self,
No voice or choosing which stone I touch,
Ever-knowing the outcome, with each push I wait for progress to appear,
The view is of dreams, with hope alive, and then I reach the peak,
Then what follows has before.   Tomorrow I shall push some more.

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