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.