Through underbrush and twisted vine
The farmer ventured on
To find the ancient forest shrine
Before the light of dawn
The bratty filly made no peep
And laid limp in her bag
As she was carried, fast asleep,
To meet the forest hag
And after hours of stumbling ‘round
The forest late at night
The mare saw mandrake on the ground
Lit by the pale moonlight
She stood up straight and set her jaw
Took in a ragged breath
Then marched right on into the maw
Of this foul place of death.
And as she set her weary eyes
Upon her goal at last
The altar, to her great surprise,
Was much unlike the past
The ebon runes carved to and fro
Upon the tablet’s face
Shone with an iridescent glow
As delicate as lace
The stone itself, once split and worn,
Was fresh as virgin snow
As if it had just now been shorn
From bedrock down below.
The farmer hefted up her sack
And dumped the filly there
Upon the altar, cold and black,
She lay there unaware
As Carrot Top beheld her prey
The wind began to blow
The twisted trees began to sway
Leaves shaking to and fro
And on the breeze her ears did catch
A gleeful cackling sound
That drew near to the mandrake patch
As it swirled round and round
The eerie sound became a boom
And soon there could be seen
A figure in the midnight gloom
The dreaded Mare in Green!
"My child, I knew you'd see the light,
And do the proper thing.
Now let us bless this sacred night
With your fine offering!
Now, this old rite of sacrifice
Is quite easy to do
As long as you took my advice
And brought the knife with you."
At this, the farmer did display
That blade, so sharp and fierce,
Which hungered for soft flesh to flay
And blameless hearts to pierce.
"Now hold that blade above your head
Reciting after me
These solemn words that must be said
With utmost gravity:
O Father of the ageless wood
Beyond the grasp of time
Devourer both of light and good
I beg thee: hear my rhyme!
Just as the snake consumes the mouse
This soul I offer thee
To serve the glory of thy house
As roots sustain a tree
Just as the chill of winter's breath
Does summer's heat impugn
Your living servant pays with death
To seek thy godly boon
O Father of the verdant hell
Thy hunter calls for aid
With sanguine ink I seal this spell
The sacrifice is made!"
And though the farmer felt so wrong
These words she did recite
The Mare in Green, her voice sing-song,
Then cried out in delight
"You've done it, child, the pact is made,
It's time to do your part.
Raise up your ancient, woeful blade
And pierce the filly's heart!"
The words fell hard upon the mare
It all became so real
She held the blade, but did she dare
To finish out this deal?
She gazed upon the little child
That had to suffer death
She saw her face so calm and mild
She heard each steady breath
A queasy feeling made her sway
As she thought out her sin
She felt her courage drain away;
A fading fire within.
The forest hag soon understood
Poor Carrot's flagging will
She growled beneath her ragged hood
And spoke in tones most shrill:
"I see the way you hesitate
So listen well, you fool,
You must not make the Father wait -
Quick action is his rule.
Stab quickly now with fury's fire
And cut the child's heart out
Or draw the mighty forest's ire
And lose your Carrot Sprout!"
With this, poor Carrot's mind was made
She could not lose her son
She held aloft the gleaming blade
She had to get this done!
She set her eyes once more to see
The sleeping child below
She murmured an apology
Then struck the fateful blow.
The blade fell quickly through the air
Its bloody thirst to slake
But then, to Carrot's great despair,
The filly sprung awake
The child let out a plaintive cry
To all the gods above
It was no use for she did die
All in the name of love
The blade struck home with stunning ease
And silenced her for good
Her blameless blood was shed to please
The Father of the Wood.
And as the child's life fell away
Her murderer did spy
Her own reflection on display
Within the child's dead eye
Her face alight with rage laid bare
A strange look in her eyes -
The mare she saw reflected there
She did not recognize.
With trembling hooves she tore apart
The sacrifice's chest
And then retrieved the still-warm heart
From deep within her breast.
The Green Mare cackled without stop
And summoned up a bowl
She placed it on the altar-top
Next to the poor dead foal
"Well done my child, my darling mare,
You did it all with ease.
Now drain the heart in that bowl there -
Just give it one good squeeze!"
So Carrot filled the blood bowl up
Until the heart was dried
And then the Green Mare poured a cup
Of some strange dust inside
A bubbling froth began to rise
And soon it could be seen
The mixture changed before their eyes
To some dark shade of green.
The Green Mare emptied out the brew
Into a golden flask
Then told the farmer what to do
To finish out her task
"By adding in the mandrake root
The potion now is done
And surely now you'll get the loot
To save your precious son
Just take the potion to your field
And pour it on your crop
It will increase your harvest's yield
My dear sweet Carrot Top.
But let me tell you one more thing
That you cannot ignore:
Now that you've made your offering
You must bring back four more!"
The Green Mare gave a laugh most weird
Then lightning streaked the sky
And in the flash, she disappeared
In one blink of an eye
And much to Carrot Top's great fear
The filly was no more
The corpse was gone, the altar clear
Bereft of blood and gore
The farmer did not linger long
On that unholy ground
And even though she felt so wrong
She galloped, homeward bound.