The Approaching Winter Poem by Sujeet Kumar Vishwakarma

When the fury of rains surrender to peace,
And warmth of love lost in cold.
Where joys come and go in a blink,
And troubles never get old.

Then you find the cold of life,
End of august approaches your soul.
Heavy troubles hail as mountains,
Smallest joys forget their role.

That's when you need,
A transcend from your life.
Where you sit in stud peace,
And wait for joys to arrive.

This is the stage a man gets old,
Not by body, not by age.
But by something even higher,
Something wishing to turn a page.