There is a face both cold and mean

That in my nightmares I have seen.

It jeers at me with twisted laughter

I hide my face but it doesn’t matter

That very same face that I have seen

Its deathly form does haunt my dreams

While deeply peering within my mirror

The ghostly form becomes much clearer

 Now I know, and am quite shaken

To great horror and realization

That this same cold and twisted face

Is now the one, which I’ve embraced.