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.