This dream of a dark face

What is this?
This dream of a dark face.
A face with no eyes,
Only a sly grin.

I hear a whisper, muttered,
from under it's breath.
From between it's lips.
From some cold, dark place inside.

If only I could see more clearly,
the features of this face above my bed.
Air moves around it, and distorts
my vision, and my sanity.

A hand moves towards me,
and touches my face.
The fingers are so cold,
and they smell like dirt, and spit.

The voice in the whispers changes,
as though to soothe me,
and make light of my growing fear.
The sly grin broadens into a sly smile.

"There, there, now," it says to me.
The cold hand pats down upon my chest.
"No one is going to hurt you, dear fellow,"
but I am not calmed, in the least.

He places his other hand upon my brow,
and strokes back my hair.
"I've been waiting for you, my friend."
I narrow my eyes at his face.

Oh, dear, oh dear, oh dear.
Oh, my dear God.
Do I know this cold whisper?
Do I know this voice?

"Soon, it will all be over, and
you will have no more worries."
He never looks away from me,
and, somehow, he doesn't blink.

I say to him, "excuse me, sir,
but who are you, and how
do you come to know me?
And...why are you here...with me...now?"

"Well now, don't you remember?
You used to talk to me on your
more gloomy days, way back when.
I would swear you'd know me by now."

"I'm the one you'd beg to for relief
from the strifes that stressed you so.
I'm the one to whom you
told your darkest, deepest, secrets."

"It was I who gave you those hints
of peace from your pains, and your sorrows.
It was I who left those little pangs in your heart,
to remind you of this day to come."

All I could do was stare at him
as his voice became a little colder.
All I could do was breathe, and my
heart slowed, and I became calm.

"Please, allow me to...reintroduce...myself."
So, he drew his face closer to mine, and smiled.
His breath was stale, and his teeth were many.
The cold of his hands faded away.

I looked into his eyes, and saw nothing.
The darkness around him was a hood.
A dim light barely gleamed off the cracked,
rough, bone, that made the skull of his head.

I...remember...now.....