all my dreams take me backwards i can see a little child his mother in black what a pleasure touched by death snow falls cover the dead cold doesn't touch her ice melts as the warm tears fall kissing the dead brother and it's snowing still in a lake of white swans stare at their direction sad they live black strange birds are coming although early the night deep falls tears turn to ice by the cold the snow covers his body and the snow stops falling in shape like crows and as swans become wizards speaking human words the morning next together they will be
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