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.