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.