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.