The warrior waits. . .
Waits for his war. . .
Waits for his enemy. . .
Waits for someone to test his blade. . .
A fear I have is that of the unfulfilled purpose. Living my life, whether it be long or cut short, I fear dedicating my life to an endeavor that remains unfulfilled.
Much like the deceased ninja. His blade is clean, as sharp as the day of its forging. He has never met an opponent in battle, and no longer remembers the intricate skills of his trade.
His duty as a ninja has gone unfulfilled, his life without purpose, his reason for being, wasted. The sadness is crushing.
Threads that Bind 
2 responses to “Ninja”
What a powerful statement on the waste of an unfulfilled life! And what of our ninja? Has he committed seppuku? I think not. His gi is undisturbed; no blade lies where it would have pierced his stomach. He has by all appearances waited, patient and disciplined, until his reason for being has passed him by. The discipline to do this is most strongly associated with the Japanese, and they are greatly admired for it, but was it wise on his part? Would he have not been better served by redefining his purpose and leaving his mark in another field?
I’ve heard it said that the best art isn’t that which makes you feel, but that which makes you think. This is a superb example of that belief in action.
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A thought-provoking picture and statement, to be sure. One might also apply it to continuing to strive as an unsuccessful indie author; but personally, my literary creations are reward enough for me, whether or not they ever earn me more than gas money.
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