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.