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.