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.