The Collector of Tales

You never see me but I am there,
Wherever a tale is told.
I stand amongst you and listen,
Sitting at your campfire,
Pacing the barroom floor,
Standing behind the sofa in your house.
You cannot see me but you know I m there.
You feel it.

Your world and beyond I have travelled.
I stood in the halls of Atlantis and listened.
I wandered the fiery shores of Hell and wrote.
I walked the place between places, striding amongst the stars.
I watch your dreams.

I hear the tales of Kings and Emperors and Gods.
I listen to the Magpies and the Ravens and the Crows.
I document the stories of the forests and the hills.
I listen to the voices in the wind.

All of this I hear and I record.
This is my charge.
My curse.

These tales I have collected for millennia.
Each one I have transcribed within my tome.
When you are long gone to dust I will still be here  
Writing your stories in my book.

And when the last is written and all the tales are told,
The task that He has given me fulfilled,
Then the stars will drip out of the sky,
The universe shall fade into the void.
Then, released, I may finally rest.
Forever.