The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree they say. But lets not blame gravity for it all, for it was clenched with our hands reaching tall. Tasting so sweet on its way down, until it hit rock bottom, like a seed without soil we became rotten. Yet I keep running to that tree, to gather its bad fruit and letting all sorts of depravity take root, snaring me until I’m bound to the ground letting death compound, and wondering why things aren’t right. Trying to live without the son and produce my own light. But with my own might, I'm still shrouded in shadows, and stumbling in the dark, failing to hit the mark. I’ve been blinded with “I” disease and gaze upon things to appease my unending appetite, only to fall over hungry and weak, while my belt gets tight. Yet I’ve become so tired of the strife and ever curious about this bread of life. I’ve smelt it on others, and I swear its sweet aroma wafts through the air, evoking hunger pains whenever it’s there. Can I have a bite? Oh just give me the crumbs because I’ve been so numb -- just a taste! But in this body of mine, would it be a waste? I’ve been gone for so long, it’d be like feeding a corpse, and in my system wouldn’t it just warp? I heard that it is good, I’ve been told that I should, but I’ve seen it muddied with soot, and trodden under foot, because its value is not understood. And what’s so special about two planks of wood? Okay, I’ll ingest -- But will this make me different than the rest? Now what’s this pounding in my chest? Has it softened into flesh? And my eyes are refocusing and I don’t like what I see, I’m no longer a fan of that serpent, and his tree. Giving in to him did not make me free! Sweet bread I want more of thee! And enough to share, multiply this around, I was lost until YOU were found!