By Laura Greenall
Cerberus guards the gates of my hell,
While I push my burden ever upward.
I am Prometheus bound upon the mountain
While the eagles tear out my entrails day after day.
Harpies fly around me, banshees scream in my ears.
Whirling dervishes dance about me
Begging me to throw myself on the pyre.
As Scheherazade, I spin my thousand and one tales
The fates cut the thread
And the tapestry of my life unravels.
Only to reweave and begin again