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.