Apple Blight

I watched the apple fall out of my tree Its vivid crimson outline filled me with a since of cacoethes telling me I wanted it thus every peice of me focused on its descent With a whisper of the airy breeze a hushed twig is fractured with ease the ruby orb drops in a shaft of light a magnet pulling it down by small degrees The flawless pome hits the ground with might hence almost leaving a scathe and a smite seizing it from the ground I notice it's speckless almost too pure to eat, still I take a bite The rich acidic taste seems all right My mouth burns with a flavor which is trite I have tasted it day after day, night after night But this was the last apple, now there's only an apple blight