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.