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.