The Dawn Of The End Poem by Sanjeev Nanda

The grass in green, the birds alight
The blue sky welcomes them
The butterfly, who soars not high
And the flowers that embrace him
All these line up in tow
See the bloom of spring in flow
Might not be there till the season winds
Reminds me of a time when I
Was a boy who loved the beautiful sights
Till my own prime, dust they bite
Now in the sunset I look at the drop
Atop the horizon I ran, could barely stop
A sluggish man reached the zenith
Only down can I go
Not in vain
All the pains I wish to gain again