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.