Always downhill

He is standing at the bottom,
panting with hopelessness.
He has been here before
and knows what will come next.

He was mighty once
he captured death in his arms
and old men did not die
till Ares could free him

He will lift his strong arms,
and push against the mighty rock.
His broad shoulders will tighten
and his muscles will ache
The rock will move, slowly,
gathering speed
up the hill of no ending.

He was clever and cruel
escaping from the underworld
pretending to need his wife
he rose again,
but not anymore.

He will tire, break down,
then push some more
and the rock will rise again
Almost there, almost
there, almost
and it will fall again.

Based on the Sisyphean myth – a work in progress