The Sisyphean Affair.

I’ve always looked up the hill, and saw nothing.
I still fought my way up, because everyone knew,
And everyone told me; beyond that rite of passage,
The hill will go up no more.

Now, I am one step away, from that rite of passage,
And I look up the hill and still see nothing,
The hill has no peak, and it remains to go up,
The stone I push grows heavier with burdens too.

I am not mad at the myths people repeat,
Yet, I have a nagging temptation to let go completely,
Let the stone roll over me, all the way down,
Fill me with scars and bruises as I laugh uncontrollably.