The apple

A bug in an apple,
Eating away, bit by bit,
'Till nothing is left
But the core,
A skeleton,
Nothing worth holding on to.

The pain, I can't understand,
Can a fruit feel pain?
The bug won't leave.
It stays,
Eating away at all that is good,
Or once was good.

The apple falls,
Rotten, rejected by the tree.
No hope left.
Then all of a sudden
A new tree appears,
The resurrection of a humble fruit.

One life over,
Another, better one begins.
A new start,
No more pain,
The apple is free,
Producing more beautiful fruit.