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.