The collector went on a self-centered journey today,

Absorbing and extruding all the facts thrown around him,

Baffled by enigma and spiraling decay,

This was a plot building up to unsure moments for him



Tragedies and lost souls in between;

Meeting individuals with chemistry and knowing that acquaintance will be brief,

Studying a bookmark and knowing they marked his life in between;

Wishing they didn't have to go when things were starting to look up with relief



Chance encounters might not be his cup of tea,

He carried Destiny's heavy book, heavier was his sigh,

External pleasantries might be exchanged with the world,

Inside though, a storm brewed with a build-up on perplexing questions



Questions, neither priest nor shaman can answer him,

Questions, neither the dearly loved can answer nor can the dearly departed hear,

Answers, he makes for himself and strings them like a thick rope,

Answers, the rope will tighten its bind on him



He might find some in this lifetime;or never,

Sometimes, the journey to find the things that bewilder him,

Is much more rewarding than finding the answers themselves,

He reminded himself and went to sleep,

He had many more journeys to collect and bookmark.