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.