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.