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.