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.