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.