An apple, bobbing up and down
in a vast, sparkling, sea of regret.
The sky, a piercing turquoise blue
devoid of clouds, offering no escape.
The water, reflecting on the smooth side
of an empty cavern.
Its image sharp, like the polished edge
of a knife.
The tendrils of a wave
break through the illusion.
The creation of a distorted prism,
a fragmented void.
More waves slash through like a sword.
And the apple finally gives in
to the deep songs of the sea.
Sinking down, bubbles forming on the surface,
the idyllic image breaks
into a thousand tiny ripples.