At the end of May

A comely smile, from the other end
a memory which seems so long ago
a certain warmth which heals a broken man
and unwittingly the fondness grow
to usher in an unfamiliar dream
one of hope,
and many promises;
- perhaps a new chapter may unfold
and through many winters the flicker may fade
like the murky glow, over a silver lake.

Hope is strength, and failure all weld into one
like in stories told where tears are made
when the final pages suggest that it seems
that the wayfarer had been trekking through a futile dream
like withered petals after mizzled rain
a closing chapter,
without an author’s name.