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.