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.