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.