Decay

A basket Full Of apples

In the middle of a forest

Surrounded by butterflies

As I walked close I could see

The full basket was empty

It had nothing except one

Gleaming green, full and round

I grasped it with my cold hand

It was smooth, shiny and fresh

The green apple’s smell filled the air

Butterflies swirling in despair

I stabbed my sharp teeth in it

Taking a big yet cautious bite

Sticking my tongue under it

Its juices flowed into my lips

The taste exploded with sourness

Sour but sweet, it was delicious

As I swallowed it

It was heaven

The apple rotted in hues of brown

After my bite, it marked my fangs

It kept fading in color, rotting black

As I was surprised, I dropped it

Looking at it as it falls away

From my cold fingers in the air

Then unto the swarm of butterflies

It vanish unto the grass