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.