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.