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.