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.