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.