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.