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.