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.