Dreaming or Am I

A tall foggy figure clings to your mirror as you enter the bathroom. Your arm hairs stand on end you know not why.Is it death or the commander of shitsues that haunt your dreams.
Or

Shitsues bark to the rhythem of the babies cry, more of a babel, it knows the shadow stands near
As the sister knows not to look
For if she does the boats will come to take you.