This is part of my informal "set" of three poems that I collectively consider my "Collector Series." This one features a variety of life-gaining artifacts.
The Collector
Through vast bazaars and tiny shops,
In each museum, every church,
I’ve made my patient, hopeful stops,
And pressed my dear, eternal search.
In blowing snows and blazing sands,
So many now have heard my name,
I walk the planes, traverse the lands,
And search for artifacts to claim.
I’ve searched for treasures everywhere,
From both the living and the dead,
I’ve spoken long with locals there,
And heeded well the things they’ve said.
The words of one, a spiteful man,
Cut deep, like some serrated knife,
And there my latest quest began,
As he told me to get a life.
For days I thought upon those words,
Which haunted dreams throughout the night,
They swooped like flocks of vengeful birds,
‘Till I conceded he was right.
And so I forged another road,
A goal on which to set my eyes,
And after time, my fortune showed
Me every aspect of my prize.
The first of all the gifts I found,
A vessel pure from which to sup,
A treasure prized and much renowned,
Was this, a lovely
Ivory Cup.
I thought it could be better still,
A thing to tie us all together,
And so to catch celestial skill,
I plucked myself an
Angel's Feather.
The quest’s not over, not by half,
There’s so much left before I’m done,
And next I found this pristine staff,
The tool of mages of the
Sun.
I’m making strides, that’s plain to see,
But islands give a different nod,
Another lock had found a key,
When I beheld this
Crystal Rod.
Yet still a greater, rarer jewel,
Is found beneath the azure sky,
And as I am no wasteful fool,
I claimed the mighty
Kraken's Eye.
But like the staff of sunlight’s glare,
Another pole I knew I’d find,
And now the two will form a pair,
The staff of mages of the
Mind.
The swamps were far less pleasant, though,
But there I walked, and all alone,
And in the bogs I dared to go,
I found a
chair of crafted Bone.
The marshes are such dreary places,
Where shadows and your fears are born,
And there I stole from gnarled faces,
A darker prize, my
Demon's Horn.
Though darker powers lay in wait,
Intent to steal my final breath,
I still obtained, through luck and fate,
The mage’s
staff of rot and Death.
The mountains climbed up strong and high,
The range spread on so very far,
And there I found, I can’t say why,
This form, a fallen
Iron Star.
Here, fire burns too strong and hot,
Like flames from out volcano’s maw,
Yet still I struggled, strove and fought,
And won the mighty
Dragon's Claw.
This journey’s like an endless laugh,
A fun and joyful children’s game,
For just like that, I won the staff,
That warmed the
Magus of the Flame.
Where predators are thick and free,
And prey will hide in abject fear,
Beneath the shading canopy,
I found this simple,
Wooden Sphere.
But trees will bend and break apart,
Beneath the weight of nature’s truth,
As thunder pounded in my heart,
I met the Wurm, and stole
his Tooth.
And every staff I found had brothers,
Each one a rare and unique child,
I found the fifth to join the others,
Once of the
Magus of the Wild.
Now I’ll return to where I came,
And make that spiteful man regret
The words he spoke against my name,
And trap his
soul within my Net!