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.