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.