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.