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.