The humble apple
Is the fruit of fate
The reward for those
Who have rebelled
And for those who loved

Your love of knowledge
Is the requirement
Of my hatred
Of both you
And myself

If I was to bite into
An apple
Red, crisp, delicious
Would you believe
My love or my hate?

Regardless, I believe in my fate
Which is to somehow rise above
Petty things like the material
And to submerse myself in the immaterial
A platonic difference
I understand
Like I understand my dreams
Indistinct, wavering, but not forgotten

Therefore, I assert
That if any of us
Should take the forbidden fruit of Eden
It should be me
For my heart
Is fit to break
And my hatred
Is deep-seated