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.