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.