Barkley Fall Classic Poem

I put together a small poem in villanelle form to commemorate my experience at the Barkley Fall Classic back in September.  

A thousand yard stare, eyes with tears glare.
No labor hath Hercules known, no deed can atone.
Walk with wanton abandon in hopeless despair.

Victims of treachery have become our fate.
Without remorse, Sisyphus rolls his stone.
A thousand yard stare, eyes with tears glare.

Running the course in our minds a debate.
The briars we bemoan, but condone.
Walk with wanton abandon in hopeless despair.

Passing Rat Jaw straights, in shoes blood collates.
Many trips over stones, nary a talent shone.
A thousand yard stare, eyes with tears glare.

Please, please where is the nearest interstate?
It would be best to just leave this all alone.
Walk with wanton abandon in hopeless despair.

Please allow me to recriminate, desecrate.
The final reckoning shan’t be postponed.
A thousand yard stare, eyes with tears glare.
Walk with wanton abandon in hopeless despair.