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.