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.