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.