The heart of Sisyphus beats in my chest
As I embrace my own futility
Destined to fail yet to still try my best
As I battle the rock that crushes me
The hand the grasps at hope is Tantalus
The fruit is forever beyond my reach
The cursed resilience of Prometheus
As I fear the eagles resounding screech
But I am not an immortal Titan
Blessed with fortitude or sheer strength of will
Yet I push my rock as far as I can
Knowing it will roll down and crush me still
The heart of Sisyphus beats in my chest
I embrace the contentment he possessed
This was the last in my recent sonnet spurt, they are fun to write as the constrains are so tight you have to challenge yourself a bit more. This is another where I have to thank 
There are a lot of references to greek mythology in this one, and in doing some fact checking after writing it, I discovered an essay. The Myth of Sisyphus by Camus which describes Sisyphus as the absurd hero, he chose to keep doing the same meaningless task over and over instead of dying, and found contentment in it. To quote the wikipedia page
Camus claims that when Sisyphus acknowledges the futility of his task and the certainty of his fate, he is freed to realize the absurdity of his situation and to reach a state of contented acceptance
Contentment can be found in acknowledging the meaningless and futility, yet still pushing on. I always remember the idea from The Time Machine by H G Wells of books being lost to future man, literature once prized and valued, just meaningless dust in crumbling museums. In this grand scale, all writing is futile, yet that notion is strangely liberating, if that doesn't matter, than all that matters is enjoying doing it.
Thank you very much for stopping by to read my poem, especially if you also made it through that little ramble!
Love and sparkle ~ Calluna
Photo Credit which is Sisyphus by Titian via wikicommons