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.