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.