Random Short Stories/Poems

Perception of Ending

I took a small pair of scissors

And gently snipped that thin thread;

It put up no fight,

As if it had just been waiting to break

Was it the last thread to hold together

The reality they so desperately grasped?

Or was it the feeble, lonely thread of our fate?

No matter; it cannot be fixed

To this day, I still wonder

If I had let that thin thread be

Would it have broken of its own free will?

Or would corruption have never entered that world?

One more question that plagues my mind

I find myself pondering, almost obsessively

Their ultimate downfall; was it the fault of the scissors

Or the fault of the thread?