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.