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.