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.