My Weeping Heart

Today my heart weeps,
As my life mimics the myth of Sisyphus.

I cannot condemn the gods;
For I love Him.
But I implore: why?

And here my echoes rebound,
Back from every corner of that cave.
I, a hermit,
Who has done nothing but serve Your worthy word.

Am I to be alone forever?
To be a slave of Yours forever?
My human will is not tantamount to Yours,
And trying to do anything You do not wish of me
Would only heavy the load.

No longer Sisyphus carrying a boulder,
But now Atlas’ globe
I must wheel up this Olympus.

You have condemned me
For reasons I do not know.

Teachings of faith speak of optimism,
But are You not a cruel God?
Why must I suffer
When I have been the victim of injustice?

Must I avenge my heart
For this wrongdoing?
Must I become rough, like a callous
And not be tolerant?
Not be a woman of grace and virtue,
But stoop to the level of others?

What is it You want from me?
Are You even there?
Or am I like a laboratory rat
On a wheel
Of my own making?

Speak, or else.
And forgive me, if You are there.