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.