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.