Snip

Snip. Snip.

The Fates cut away at my strings.

Every snip, I hear louder than the last.

Snip. Snip.

How simple is  life that

a single snip can determine its end?

A gust of wind, and it vanishes.

Yet the pain I feel is as real

as can be.

Snip. Snip.

When will this torment end?

Just how many more will it take

for this to be over?

Snip. Snip.

My life is falling down

like a puppet’s whose strings

were cut by the puppeteer.

My heart feels like it will burst

at any given moment.

A single snip more.

Snip. Snip.

I beg for it to be over.

The seams break away

one by one.

With every string cut away

I feel my heart strings cut away too.

It is becoming too heavy to carry

with all these strings cut.

Snip. Snip.

Soon it will end

I hope and pray.

Snip.