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.