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.