Collector

He would wander through the

Machine

Graves,

Searching for

Baubles and

Glittering things to

Add to his

Collection.

Like a raven,

Except without wings.

Everyday he'd come

Here and

Do just this.

Sometimes for hours

Sometimes only minutes.

It all depended on what he could

Find.

On occasion,

When he could

Find nothing

He'd search the towers.

Rather,

In between them.

Avoiding the

Fancy

Dressed

Creatures

On the mains.

They didn't like him

And he had no love for them.

But their unspoken agreement

Worked well for

Both parties.

They discard,

He collects.

Clearing the way.