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.