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.