The nighttime woods were calm and still
A deathly, stagnant hush
As Carrot dragged her future kill
Through twisted vine and brush
No frogs called out their croaking song
No crickets played their drone;
The farmer grimly marched along
So fearfully alone
Beneath the forest's silent shroud
Distractions fell away
And buried thoughts came roaring loud
To haunt her on her way
She saw her prey from yesterday,
Recalled her bloody scream;
It seemed unreal and far away
A sick and monstrous dream.
Yet here she was, now on her way
To steal another soul
A bitter, hefty price to pay
To reach her noble goal
She felt some creeping pangs of doubt
About her current course
But quickly chased the dark thoughts out
With fervent, faithful, force.
For surely she was good and right
To play the Green Mare's game;
She did her gruesome deed tonight
In love's exalted name!
And all the horrid things she'd done
And all the things she'd do
Were good if they could help her son
To see his sickness through.
'Twas midnight when she found that place
Where mandrake root did grow
She plodded in, bereft of grace
Her sacrifice in tow
The dormant wind at once awoke
It shook both tree and brush
And softly, then, the forest spoke
Its voice a raspy hush
"My child, your wisdom is immense;
How quickly you've returned!
It's only through your diligence
That Sprout's good health is earned..."
The phantom voice did cackle out;
The breeze became a gust
The leaves began to swirl about
Commingling with the dust
The monstrous wind swirled 'round her face;
A cyclone had begun!
It whirled about the sacred place
As leaves within it spun
The verdant tempest set its eyes
Upon the clearing's core
Once there, it it quickly shrunk in size
And concentrated more
The swirling wind took pony form
And soon there could be seen
Emerging from the leafy swarm
The smiling Mare in Green
"No doubt you saw the great effect
Of last night's lovely brew!
So show the Father your respect
And do what you must do!"
Though fearful at the spectacle
The farmer gave a nod
And shuffled forth to trade a soul
To please the Forest God
With one great heave she set the kid
Upon the altar's stone
And from its sheath, the knife was slid
To cleave her flesh from bone.
Beneath her, Carrot saw her prey,
Her form lit by the moon
Her coat a pretty shade of gray
And on her flank, a spoon
Her stylish glasses scratched and bent
Her mane was all distraught
The girl was cute as fillies went,
But all that mattered not
Mechanically, she raised her blade
And took the green mare's lead
She spoke the spell within the glade
To feed the forest's greed
"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 strangely then, she felt no fright,
No creeping pangs of doubt
So Carrot struck with all her might
And snuffed the filly out
The steel struck true within her chest
The victim drew one breath
She shuddered hard, then came her rest;
The endless sleep of death.
And as the blood came fast and hot
And spurted on the mare
Poor Carrot had a dreadful thought:
She really didn't care.
She gazed down at the dead child's face
And cared not for her plight;
She chose to snoop around her place
And earned her fate tonight.
The last night's kill was hard to do
It wracked her from within;
But this time she had gone right through
And thought not of her sin.
No reservations slowed her blade;
They just did not occur;
Had this foul place already made
A killer out of her?
The Green Mare's wheezing, grating cry
Then broke her reverie
The forest witch was riding high,
And cackling with glee
"My child, you made a perfect kill!
Such skill and such finesse!
And now that Father's had his fill,
Your carrot patch he'll bless!
Now show me more amazing art
In how you use that knife.
Cut out the filly's poor pure heart
And drain it of its life."
The butchery was quick and fast
As Carrot cut the foal
Removed her still-warm heart at last
And squeezed it in a bowl
The Mare in Green then did her task
And added mandrake root
She mixed it, poured it in a flask,
Then boiled it up to boot
The glowing brew was quickly done
And bottled nice and tight
And eager then to see her son,
The farmer soon took flight
But as she turned to head on out
And leave this place of fear
She heard the Green Mare give a shout
And call out loud and clear:
"That's two you've finished, Carrot Top,
But three more still to give.
So carry on and don't you stop
If you want Sprout to live..."