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.