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.