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.