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.