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.