The mask grins through flickering light, A neon stag burning through the night. The wheel grips cold, the glass holds frost, Another road driven, another soul lost. The headlights cut through a dying dream, Where the trees don’t move, and nothing screams. The silence roars in electric glow, A carnival face where no one will go. Eyes wired shut but still awake, Every mile a gamble you didn’t take. Rusting green, a graveyard ride, No passengers left, no place to hide. The deer floats high in a motel sky, And the driver smiles—don’t ask why. A flick of the wheel, the end in sight, This mask wears you, and you wear the night.