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.