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.