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