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.