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.