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.