Bite The Apple Taken From The Soil

Have you ever thought about what would've happened if God had taken Lucifer back into heaven? That feeling of being pulled from chaos into a place of serenity and peace. Whelp that's what we apples feel like when we have Fallen Far From the Tree.

You may not understand it, you may not see the connections but I assure you one thing, everything is and will always be connected. You may wonder how do I know, and what do I know. I'm just a simple Apple. You are right. I am just a simple Apple, however, I've spent a good portion of my time in the soil. Which makes me the most qualified to say this.

Almost everyone avoids this place. I see you don't believe me yet again. What is the proper way of saying "You just shit yourself"? That's right, "you just soiled yourself. To make matters worse the Rotten Apples smell like used soil.
Nevertheless, here is where I am.
                                                                    Waiting.                                                       Thinking.

And hoping someone will allow me...
                                                                                       To be Taken From the Soil.

           I am like most of you Apples, grew up in a tree where all we did all day was watch the world from a view so few have. As the days passed and we begin to gain mass. After enough time passes, gravity takes its course and the weight of our lives is pulled to the ground. Most of us have made it safely to the ground. With the occasional bruises along the way we still with the help of nature, continue being our round Apple selves. Some have the unpleasant luck of landing in the soil. If your like me, you tried your best and made sure you touched as many raindrops as possible to be healthy, and gained enough mass on one side to roll in a different direction when gravity came to knock us down. Yet we still ended up in the soil.

           It was probably the best thing that could've happened. You have to understand it from my perspective, when it rain, it pours and the water rises and moves you. You begin to feel like your drowning. After days of sitting on the bed of water, you feel the Skin of the sun kiss the shell that protects your Apple body and you know you made it through the day. What about the night time though? When the lights go out and the music the farm instruments make fades, what do you think I feel?

           Cold.                                                                                                                        Forgotten.         
                                                I find myself looking for something.

           Then it hit me. I saw everything. That endless sky that covered me from pole to pole. I saw the soil for what it was. I saw the past, your present, and my future. The white freckles sat among darkness just waiting for someone to connect them. How could I not see the implications of the my choices playing out. It was the soil who told me. When the waters crept up the side of Apple Skin and floated me down stream, it was there in the kaleidoscope of videos did I see how everything was connected. It wasn't until the water dried, that I saw the soil dwellers. They were constantly making adjustments to the soils wishes. Every so often, it shifted, grew, aged, softened, compacted, cracked, dusted away, and even dyed the color of it's own skin. Yet still remained itself, still remained the soil.

           It swallowed me beneath, so I would know who darkness is. In the dark, things become clear, the perception of everything is seen and watched. Protected me from the sun light, so that I may not be found just yet. Seeped water to keep me cool from time to time. I never knew how convincing the soil can be when you lay in it. He told me my mistakes, short comings, and opportunities of a better life. He told me if I wanted to be the brightest of bunch. It will come with a price. He told me if I wanted to be the Apple of someone's eye, I will have to know how much it hurts to lose the part of me that makes me whole. The soil lastly told me that if I wanted to break free and roll on with the rest of the apples that were picked, that I would have to give in to him. He said that if it is impossible for good Apple's to void becoming a bad Apple. He told me that everyone faces the teeth that will mince us. What makes the difference between the good and bad Apples are the reasons, and the depth of the ambitions of our immortal soul.

           Life is hard, I know that better than most Apples of my age. Yet I also know every little compared to other Apples of my life. I know now that sometimes it is better to stop fighting gravity and just let it push us down. How else will we be reborn? How else will be able to tell everyone:

I was the Apple Taken From the Soil... So bite me, bite the apple taken from the Soil.