When
   like Sisyfus
   pushing that rock
   you reach the top
   after enormous effort
   and then   it starts rolling
   down the incline,
   and you must
   once more
   go down
   and push it up,
   is it then a time to die?

   Rather
   a time to take   a deep breath
   and choose,   with intent,
   whether
   to start once more
   the terrible effort
   or
   to forget the rock
   and walk away,
   gathering
   anemonies and daisies
   on the way.

   When
   like Prometheus,
   your liver
   has just managed
   to regenerate
   and you can take a breath
   of relief,
   a look around,
   testing the thongs that bind you
   and once more
   the sound of wings,
   the heavy shadow,
   announces  the eagle
   who swooping  down
   will feast on your live  innards,
   is it then a time to die?

   Rather,
   it is a time
   to take a deep breath
   and scream
   the terrible scream
   of the japanese
   martial arts,
   and choose
   to either endure,
   once more,
   or use the strength
   to tear the bonds
   and be
   your own Heracles.