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.