Life: 1

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There is no way I could stop rolling the stone up the slope
Even if it would roll back down again - I am cursed!
Born to be futile is how I would be remembered,
And yet remembered, not restfully anonymous

My work won't end, but does anything ever complete?
The meaning is in doing, rather than like a take-away meal,
Each moment is spent with my senses alert
My life of labour has no time to regret -

I don't envy anyone's leisure, or success,
I haven't expected fairness of the gods
My stone's heavy, and worthy of its name,
I am blessed, as I am always looking upward.

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