I sit alone,

Staring at their orders.

Refuelling stations for weary souls,

Admiring the healing nature of cafes.

.

I sip my black coffee,

Enjoying the bitterness.

Coloured like my soul

I stare into the watery abyss.

.

My hit points rise,

Along with my spirit.

Human company a rare treat,

To this tortured spirit.

.

Wallet drained, stomach filled.

I retreat to the darkness of my corner.

Alone I write better,

But I fear for what I have lost!