You keep trinkets
of all lovers past.
Coveted effigies
of your worth.
Expressions of their desire
you could never return.
For you are a sickly dragon
wounded,
astride your bounty.
Waiting for the next fool
to enter your domain
ready to claim his heart
as your next prize.
Yet, it will never be
enough
and all that shall remain
are memories of treasures,
worn idols
to your solitude.