Return me (A League Of Legends Poem I Wrote)

I write to you all from the prison of knowledge and information. Confined to three different cells each spanning an hours length followed by lower class 25 minutes. A prisoner for four dreaded hours. Woe is the soul that yearns for the battlefield. Victorious victory cries. Bitter angst towards the victor as the defeated. The yearning to out-play an enemy sure of his domination in a tantalizing lane. Placed in perfect positions for a counter-strike against the hated enemy jungler who waits in the safety of the brush seeking the opportunity to force spells to remain lax for seconds that feel like eons. The sense of accomplishment when ripping Infernal from the clutches of a confident smite ready fool. Stalking and waiting on unsuspecting pray when an enemy support fails to distribute vision among their shrouded property. I yearn for the smell of the first blood that the enemy top laner was so sure they could attain that avaricious gold boost until our own jungle savior appears to checkmate the opposition. Return me to my station so that I may laugh and rage with the team I have become so accustomed to sharing these moments with. Return me to the Summoners Rift.