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.