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.