With all his questions answered,
Sisyphus relaxed;
that massive stone,
he pulled forever,
finally rolled back.
In peace he watched the pebbles slide,
with no Hades on his mind,
nor dancing Persephone.
With his back,
turned to the hill,
he thought of memories alone.
To the abandoned rock he glanced,
and sighed, began to laugh.
With Sisyphus redeemed,
God Zeus, it seemed,
had been impeached at last.
Nessuna Miseria.
No more purpose,
but to live, enjoy;
Sisyphus Unemployed.
After further contemplation,
of the struggle he called home,
he started to lament—
the beauty of the hill, the stone,
grey skies and punishment.
Con niente di lasciato,
he sighed, and on sore legs he rose.
Peace of mind was not enough.
The stone pulled Sisyphus from the dust.
In tuo adventu,
suscipiant te martyres;
the stone on him took hold.
And once again,
his misery,
so beautifully rolled.
Nessuna Miseria.
No need for purpose,
just to be;
Sisyphus thought, c’es la vie .
brandon the writer | author & staff writer for sir swag 