Reap

Glass windows closed
Covered curtains resist the outside lighting
The room is dusky blue
The man is lying, remisnicing a once good spark

Someone knocks the door
But the man is not ready
The surprise awaits for him
But he refused, Perhaps he's tired of the game

He's focused on his wants
He's focused on his needs
He's nursing a seed
And protect it from weeds

When it's time to reap
The frutis of a fruitless tree
That has reached its roots down the mantle
Reaping through the ways of gentle

The man levitates
As he walks his path
Noone sees it
But the man feels it