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.