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.