Visitor

I'm a visitor,

a guest, if you will.

I travel into lives,

different times in these lives,

difficult times.

I'm a visitor.

I come into landscapes unknown,

uninvited,

unimpeached,

without having a way shown.

I'm a visitor.

I find myself being chosen,

where there is no crowd,

to bear the brunt of baggage,

of troubles unknown.

I'm a visitor.

I'm asked to dine with,

sing local songs,

and dance on tunes unheard.

But only till I'm unaware of the food, the song and the steps.

I'm a visitor.

Some make me a part of their whispers,

inside stories and gossips.

Whom will the visitor tell?

He's a visitor, he'll be gone before finishing this bottle of ale.

I'm a visitor.

I smile for pictures which are to be forgotten.

Gifts which remain immaterial.

What I take is what I leave behind,

I came empty handed and so shall I get when I'm gone.

I'm a visitor.

A visitor is only a visitor, if he leaves.

A guest, uninvited,

overstaying his visit, is not a good guest.

I'm a visitor. A good visitor.

When the night is seen through,

and our time together has come to an end,

at the stroke of dawn, I shall leave.

Find another who'll accept,

for I'm merely a visitor, a guest, if anyone wills.