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.