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.