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.