He fell in the lake, the native boy, who lived in island shaped like a ring An island abundant in magic fruit From trees whose roots drink from the lake
He fell in the lake, the native boy who had just become a man Still young and curious He questioned who he was
A boy who helped those who needed A man who stood against unfair odds A son who managed the hut with his father A friend to "she" Though he secretly loved her
He fell in the lake, the native boy The lake in which the indigenous believed special that bore the fruit that granted long life that solidified the scattered ashes of the dead into smooth blue pebbles ...that brought oblivion to those who touched a mere drop
He fell in the lake, the native boy Crossing the bridge, with a flower at hand Preparing a speech to his closest friend "I've loved you for a while, I must confess" But he'd take it with him through the broken planks
He fell in the lake, the native boy It pulled him to the bottom He tried to hold on to each memory But each one...forgotten