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.