Gothic Zen Doom

 

 

The monk sat, facing the wall.

And he sat…

and he sat…

and he sat.

He sat through the weather,

the seasons came and went,

he grew old

as he sat

as he sat

as he sat.

One day,

the wall in front of him crumbled,

as if it had had enough.

 

The monk got up and walked away

as if nothing had happened.