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.