A Stranger

My passport will soon be expired.
Before long, I would answer the call
To uproot my settlement here
To wander in the abandoned memory.
All events, either trivial or important, would graze me
As I set out to the place called the Summit.
Though I would feel the waning sensation of the tropics,
My sight has been fixed upon the new adventure.
The full stop would soon to be stamped with
A thundering hit in my ears,
Like a sharp ring of cymbal, echoed the mysterious ritual I once had.
To this perjured and sordid island,
I shall repose myself again,
Full of sparkling ideas and exciting rendezvous,
With chastity of fours seasons,
Remained however, a stranger in the wanderers' land.