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.