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.