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.