The Rock Collector

A strange man, they call him,

who treads against the flow

of the hoarding river,

thieving its worn stones

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To those who will listen,

he displays his treasures

and recalls their stories

as if for the first time

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His identity unknown,

buried by the stones

that he holds dear

hearth and home

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But rest never comes

for heretics and fools,

his charred treasures

evidence of his conviction

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