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.