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About This Poem
Collector
You’re an avid collector I see,
You and your eccentricity
Stamps, trinkets, antique books,
Keep your egotistical dirty looks.
I dabble in acquisitions too it would seem,
More precious then you could ever dream.
I, a collector of invaluable souls,
Find that in your flimsy archaic scrolls.
Possessions, momentary combustible things,
Fleeting, memories with pleasures it brings.
wealth decays with erosive time,
While a soul endeavers a radiant shine.
My collection puts all yours to shame,
At expiry it is I who beckons your name.
I who aquires expired essence,
against all humanities acquiescence.
So tremble with apprehensions mortal fools,
In this regard, it is I who imperiously rules.
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