Deliver The Letters Back To The Sender by Reon Sylvester Dcunha

Deliver The Letters Back To The Sender 

The clock tower no more moved it's Hands,
It's arms were stopped by the frozen winds,
Winters were here, stopping the time,
Everything was at standstill, Including the words.

The postman stopped delivering the letters,
Letters that were handwritten centuries ago,
However, the words  still remained intact,
Hoping for a call atleast from someone. 

Time was at  standstill, no one to receive the letters,
The coldwave that kept people indoors,
There was no communication from anyone, 
The letters were delivered back to the sender.

Who was the sender? Why was he writing letters at this time?
Only Sherlock Holmes or Hercule Poirot knows the roadmap better. 
"Does the Daylight predict the time atleast?" Someone asked the postman,
"Snowflakes have blocked the Sunlight" he replied. 

"Mr Darcy, the world has been paused"
Everyone's groaning from the frostbite,
Look, Even the trees have shed their leaves,
The world is in silence.

The clouds will open up someday,
Melting the ice to create a stream,
Rejoice, The coldwave has ended,
The postman Will be delivering the letters.

By Reon Sylvester Dcunha