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.