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.