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.