Cataclysm backstory poem in the style of the Collector's storybook :)
•••
We're supposed to amass, but it's all such a pain!
Preserving's so slow! Collecting's a drain!
Still, the other collectors command me to try
So I chase after mortals, and swiftly they hide.
I try thinking of ways for my chore to end speedily,
but whatever I do, mortals burn up too easily!
☆•☆•☆
"Talk to them," say the others "and they will abide,"
But it's not any faster. Believe me, I tried.
"Stay put!" I'd command, "Stop hiding! Stand still!"
But none of them listen, all shrieking so shrill;
"Apocalypse!" "Evil god!" "Cataclysm!" they call me.
My chore takes twice as long-- it's four times as annoying.
When I'm finally done, my archives are "too small."
But the mortals-- they meddled! It wasn't my fault!
Say the others, "You're young. You will get it someday."
But I don't want to "get it!" "It" should just go away!
I'm sick of being too little! Sick of everyone else!
I'll run off, see the planets and stars for myself!
And no one will tell me I break them too fast!
The others don't try to stop me. "This tantrum won't last.
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