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.