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.