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.