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.