Sisyphus
crowned by werckage
Crowned by Wreckage
He faced the void like a cartoon hero,
not with the easy cry of “Believe in yourself!”
but the harsher creed: “One must imagine Sisyphus happy.”
The moths bore his manifestos into flame,
while history yawned, shelving him beside
pamphlets on extinct animals.
And then—tree or tarmac, it mattered little—
the absurd he crowned crowned him in return:
not laurel, but twisted chrome and shattered glass.
The philosopher of chance was felled by chance,
his last ticket unused, his last line unfinished—
a coronation written in wreckage.
.
fragment from the hill
"Fragment from the Hill"
I know the stone will fall.
I know the slope will not forgive.
Each ascent is already erased,
yet it is mine—
the weight, the sweat, the rhythm of refusal.
Do not pity me.
The gods gave me repetition,
but they could not touch my laughter.
In the pause, walking back down,
I taste the air sharper than any victory.
Happiness is not in the summit,
but in the push,
in the stubborn heartbeat that says:
I am here,
I am alive,
and I will shoulder this absurd crown again.
.