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.