Just  Off The  Coast To  The Baltic  Sea 
    There'S A Freshwater Pond, Secluded   
 Among  Ashen And Juniper. A Cleft In The 
  Limestone Bedrock, Sharp-Cut From The   
    Surrounding Plains, A Ninety Degree   
 Drop Down,  Down,  To The Midnight-Black 
                  Water.                  
                                          
                          
                                  
     Fairies Live Here.     
                                  
                          
                                          
 They  Speak To  The  Sloane,  Caress It, 
 Urge It To Grow  Thicker, Tangled,  With 
 Longer And Sharper Thorns. They  Tell It 
 To Stay Just  Below The  Grass,  So That 
 The  Animals  What  Come  To  Drink  The 
 Water  Cannot See  It  Before  It  Draws 
 Their  Blood.  Closer To The  Pond,  The 
 Sloane Can Grow Taller,  Being  Able  To 
        Hide Also In The Juniper.         
                                          
 The Fairies  Will  Beckon The Animals To 
 Push  Forward,  Tell  Them That  They'Re 
 Almost  At  The  Water,  That  They  May 
 Drink  Soon.  And They Will  Tug On  The 
 Sloane To Make  Sure That The Thorns Cut 
 Deep. When  They Finally  Find  The Path 
 Down  Between  The Rocks,  Away From The 
 Bushwork And  Into The  Cleft, They  Are 
 Bleeding  From  A  Thousand  Wounds.  As 
 They Drink  From  The  Dark Water, It Is 
 In  Turn  Drinking  The  Animals  Blood. 
                                          
 The  Circle Is  Complete,  The  Contract 
 Carried Out; The Animal Is  Abandoned To 
 Find Its Own Way  Back. The Bushes Roots 
 Drink  The Nutrutious Water. The Fairies 
          Dance In The Sunbeams.