Cold grey eyes stare above
To the bustling traffic zooming overhead
The Traveler rests easily
Closer to the underbelly of humanity
Even the worst of the worst
That lurks within these shadows
Steer clear of him
Any addiction can be fed here
Even that of the Traveler
Tall structures surround them
And offer small cell like hiding places
From the free world above
Concrete as cold as the killer within
Offers the comfort no motel ever could
Anonymity in darkness
A resting place and hunting ground in one
The Traveler rests his rust stained hands
Leans deep against the cold wall
And hungers only for the next encounter
Daydreams at midnight
Engulfed by the darkness he has created
And adventures yet to come
Drowns deeper into his muddy thoughts
And of hands he has seen strike the sky in vain
Makes him smile evil in his madness
Around him low life carries on
As the Traveler will come the early morning hours