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.