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.