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.