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.