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.