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.