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.