The boat crossed the silent lake,
those lonely, cold waters,
whose smile is fake,
and whose tears are glasses.

The lake did not receive him
neither did push him away,
the lake didn't willingly take
those things that on his waters
made happily their way.

The humble boat did no damage,
to the mighty, guilty lake
instead, his crystals carresed
but, no simle to the boat,
the iced lake gave.

The constant sound of the light boat,
was a lullaby for the lake;
but, as in his arrogance he strayed,
proudly silent, it was kept.

The boat shared his wheeps,
to the cruel lake's water,
but, he did nothing to reap
the pain of the boat's eyes
as he shivered in the night.

So long the boat traveled
on those nasty waves,
that the end finally unraveled;
and the lake's skin was left behind
feeling every whisper of the wind.

And so, the lake stayed alone,
alone again, in its solitude
he became one, with his soul
and his heart blackened even more.

But, Oh! what does he see?,
in the distance, far away
it's a big, great ship
trying to get to the lake.

The lake closes his eyes,
for something, from the sea,
comes towards his grace
something, big and clean,
a ship is on the lake!.

The lake, does not speak,
no word is given to the master
they both follow the patern,
with no comunication needs.

And, once again, the lake feels it,
from inside, a burning fire
coming from him, towards the ship,
he can't hold it, so he cries,
freeing, finally, the flames.

The ship, shinig with pride
avoids the sad tears,
he attempts to put them aside
though beneath his rumbles, he hears
but, does not try to heal.

So the second ship passes by,
the lake is left alone again;
he thinks, leaves arrogance behind,
for alone he is, and him is to blame.

Alas!, the lake is closed,
he tries not to make a mistake,
but the boat he rejected,
and the ship he tried to take
are gone, not to return again.

The lake has died today
as an old man's will,
his water now flow in the sea;
the had nothing to take
but his tears, the ocean he gave.

The lake died lonley,
he never had a friend again;
he wept and wept, thought time,
he had too many things to gain,
and none of them,
went back to his side.