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.