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.