Reapers Are Here

God was right.
A wispy sin was must
in ethics of love.

The silent thoughts
revolt against the underlines.
From black to red.

Star-gazing was
on increase. Mannequins come
down for handshakes.

So far and so near.
How do I touch you O invisible.
An immortal was dying.

Beehive hides the
queen from the sun. Moon
shiners want to drop shutters.

Satish Verma