in darkness

behind the mask,

unseen,

in darkness,

clues,

exist only in the lines,

covered in darkness.

Douglas Polk

captives

trees captive to the wind,

forced to move and adapt,

to the wind's demands.

Douglas Polk

faces

the face of a clown,

or a dog,

or the soul,

unknown for sure,

but frightening,

never the less.

Douglas Polk

doubts

doubts like ghosts,

flow in the back of the mind,

seen only out of the corners of the eye,

causing uncertainty.

Douglas Polk

a tree

a tree,

awakens to the dawn,

alone and isolated,

death all around,

wondering,

what lies ahead.

Douglas Polk

overseer

the overseer,

watching and waiting,

hopeful,

his power will remain pure.

Douglas Polk

chaos

the voices,

a garble of sound,

no order,

or structure,

only noise.

Douglas Polk