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.