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.