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.