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.