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.