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.