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.