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.