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.