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.