Life: 1
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.