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.