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.