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.