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.