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.