"Her dreams were shattered to faint dust of realization, and her will and smile withered away to blackness with the same grace as her smile of red roses. The coldness of her silver eyes still reflected thousand dreams through seven devil smiles, just like a broken mirror reflected raging lightning bolt with greater intesity than it normaly would. However, there was one thing still waving in front of her eyes, the last sign of humanity in her. With the scythe raising towards the skies, the colors of the hope flew away to darkness, the last remnant of the butterflies of will she felt. Free of morale chains that were holding her true face down, with a slow grin on her face that told that Hell was raining on earth, she unmasked her betrayal of life and swang down."
Rose became death. Mirror became anger. Butterfly became lost hope. And mask became truth. Complete role reversals implement the dramatic feeling in the story, and if executed properly, can create a stunning dark atmosphere.