Sisyphus is tired.
Too clever by half, inevitably
He draws the gods' revenge.
Things are the way they are
For a reason.
But he never learns.
Teachers teach.
And they all agree
A quiet colloquy may be desired, maybe needed.
But the fire calls them
To their calling
And they go.
The stones stand cold
As he waits,
Angry and alone.
And the gods have their revenge.
