/pone/ - My Little Pony★

>>298840 (OP)

CANTO I

Across the bridge and down the roads

As cobbles turn to loam

Just past the pond with croaking toads

There stood a lonely home

And in the home there was a mare

Whose days were full of toil

She cultivated carrots there

In dark and fertile soil

Her cutie mark was just the same

As her delicious crop

It even did inspire her name:

They called her Carrot Top.

She led a very simple life

Monotonous and dull

Enduring hardship, pain, and strife

For one most noble goal

Her dreary life had but one light

One reason to exult

One thing that made the sun shine bright:

A darling little colt

She was his mom, and he her son

Though she was no one’s wife

She worked until the day was done

To win her son's good life

He was an energetic boy

Quite perfect in and out

He brought his mother pride and joy

His name was Carrot Sprout.

Yet their horizon held dark clouds

For just beyond their farm

Beneath the forest’s leafy shrouds

Was one who meant them harm.

It started on one bright fall day

As leaves were turning red

When little Sprout was made to stay

At home, quite sick in bed

His mother did not feel concern

The flu was all it was

But as his fever came to burn

It gave his mother pause

When, after resting one whole day,

Poor Sprout was still so ill

She knew that she would have to pay

A hefty doctor’s bill.

She opened wide her dusty purse

And laid her money bare

She sighed and mumbled out a curse

She could not pay for care

As Carrot Sprout whimpered and cried

While in his bed he laid

She knew she’d have to squelch her pride

And beg the doc for aid

She made the long trip into town

And found the doctor there

She set her threadbare coin purse down

And pleaded for his care

The small-town doc was old and gray,

He also was quite kind

He promptly set off without pay

To see what he could find.

Upon arriving at her stead

The doctor tasted fear

The young colt’s tongue was crimson red

His illness then was clear

He prayed that it was not the case

Ran all the tests he could

They failed, and so he had to face

An outlook far from good

He told the colt he’d be okay

And patted his sweet head

He did not have the heart to say

The child would soon be dead

But still, the mother had to know

Her son’s impending doom

He tried to blunt the heavy blow

With tactful, kind aplomb

His tone was gentle as he spoke

He was direct, not vague

But still the farmer's poor heart broke

At news of foul Red Plague.

The weeping mare fell to the floor

Her agony was pure

Through sobs she managed to implore

The doc to find a cure

The doctor swore to do his best

To save the colt from harm

Advising liquids, soup, and rest,

He left the carrot farm.

>>298841

CANTO II

The doctor diligently sought

A cure for Carrot Sprout

But soon it seemed ‘twas all for naught

And time was running out

He wrote to colleagues far and wide

Read all the books he had

He looked and searched, but none supplied

Salvation for the lad

The doc's poor wits were near their end

And worked right to the bone

When he received word from his friend

In distant Griffonstone

It seemed the griffons had a brew

For Red Plague and its ilk:

Three cups of frost salts, cold and blue

Mixed with some buttermilk

While those two things were common fare

The potion needed more

Its final part was very rare

And steeped in myth and lore:

Born from the hearts of windigos

That brim with icy chill

A flower grown in bitter snows,

The Crystal Daffodil.

But some old griffons had the skill

To find the bloom of ice

They’d ship some off to Ponyville

If paid the proper price

The letter then went on to state

The flower’s crushing cost

The doctor knew at that high rate

That Carrot Sprout was lost

For Ponyville was not a town

Imbued with massive wealth

And none could put the money down

To save the young lad’s health

He set the letter to the side

And though his stomach churned,

He went to solemnly confide

The news that he had learned.

Meanwhile, the carrot-farming mare

Was doing her utmost

To stop the sick child in her care

From giving up the ghost

Her many friends did what they could

To aid her in this task

They came because their hearts were good,

She didn’t have to ask.

Sprout’s kindly friend from down the way

Brought water from her well

And came to help him pass each day

Her name was Sweetie Belle

Though weak and sick, young Carrot Sprout

Did not fall to despair

He’d smile and laugh, he’d joke and shout

While in his sweet friend’s care

And when poor Sprout just had to sleep

She left most gracefully,

She crept downstairs without a peep

And joined his mom for tea

As they were sharing their Earl Grey

A rap came on the door

The doc arrived with much to say

About the bitter cure

And when he shared the sky-high rate

To get what Sprout would need,

The farmer’s heart was filled with hate;

She cursed the griffons’ greed.

As Carrot Top began to cry

The doctor hugged her tight,

But Sweetie wouldn’t let Sprout die;

She swore that she would fight!

She let the grieving mother be

And headed home with haste,

For if she wanted victory

There was no time to waste

Though nobody in Ponyville

Alone was rich enough

Together, they could pay the bill

It wouldn’t be that tough!

And so the noble Sweetie Belle

Embarked on her bold quest

To end her good friend’s living hell

And let the poor colt rest.

>>298842

And here we go.

Some of you who have been around awhile may remember this one. I picked it up again after a long-ass hiatus and have three new cantos worth of content ready to go. I meant to have it completely done before Halloween, but wagecucking has crushed my dreams quite expertly. I'll keep writing and post daily updates until I reach the point that I'm working on now. I'm also posting it on Fimfic as a sort of advertisement for the board. Hopefully it attracts quality posters or at the very least does not bring a cancer storm down upon us. I intend to have this poem completely finished in November. In the meantime, happy Halloween, /pone/!

>>298842

CANTO III

Young Sweetie gathered up her friends

And shared the plan she’d made

To satisfy her lofty ends

She needed both their aid

And when she told them what to do

To help the colt in need

Both Apple Bloom and Scootaloo

Quite happily agreed.

The kindly trio set about

Preparing their campaign

They crafted slogans they could shout

To maximize their gain

And when the sun’s first golden ray

Came heralding the dawn

They set out quick and seized the day

Their fundraiser was on!

They knocked on every single door

Hit every merchant’s stall

“Save Carrot Sprout!” they did implore

To ponies great and small

And soon they found, to their surprise,

Bits filling up their cart

For Sweetie, with her bright, sad eyes

Could melt a frozen heart.

And when the day was growing old

Their fundraising was done

They marveled at their pile of gold

That gleamed beneath the sun

Triumphantly, the fillies went

To Carrot Top’s chateau

They laughed and sang with merriment

Their hearts were all aglow

For nothing in this world contends,

As all can plainly see,

With bringing hope to downcast friends

Through generosity.

They knocked on Carrot Top’s front door

And showed her their surprise

The farmer’s jaw dropped to the floor

And tears came to her eyes

The fillies told her of their quest

To help her save her son

She quelled the sobs within her breast

And deeply thanked each one.

Soon Sweetie’s friends excused themselves

They had somewhere to be

And Carrot Top ransacked her shelves

To find her finest tea

The farmer and the filly sat

And sipped at their hot brew

They laughed and had a lovely chat

As good friends often do

Soon Sweetie went up with a smile

To visit Carrot Sprout

And Carrot Top worked for a while

To count the money out.

She counted stack by golden stack

More than she’d ever seen

The sheer amount took her aback

She felt quite like a queen

But as she counted, she felt fear

Arising in her soul

Could even this cash see her clear

To pay her bill in full?

At last she set the money down

And choked up, lost for words

The alms of the entire town

Could not pay off those birds.

Sure, she was close, but not quite there

Just what was she to do?

To save the young colt in her care

Her options now were few.

When Sweetie went home for the day

She smiled and stroked her mane

She did not have the heart to say

Her efforts were in vain

And once young Sprout was tucked in tight

With much water to drink

His mother stole into the night

To walk around and think

She did not care as she went ‘round

It all was just the same

She cast her gaze down at the ground

And wandered without aim

But soon she gave a frightened gasp

And looked up just to see

That she was in the forest’s grasp

This was the Everfree!

The woods beyond her house, she knew

Were dangerous at night

For monsters slithered, sneaked, and flew

And sought some prey to bite

She did her best to keep her cool

And head back to the east

She prayed she wouldn’t meet a ghoul

Who’d have her for a feast

She thought she saw the forest’s edge

When something caught her ear

A calm voice coming from a hedge

Called out, both loud and clear

“Oh please my child, please hear my rhyme,

I do not mean you harm

I’ve watched you now for quite some time

Down on your carrot farm…”

>>298879

CANTO IV

The weird sound coming from nearby

Gave Carrot quite a scare

She looked around, searched low and high,

And stammered out “Who’s there?”

“Come closer, child, and speak with me,

For I know all about

The deathly crimson malady

Afflicting Carrot Sprout…”

The farmer’s heart skipped quite a beat

At mention of her child

Though instinct told her to retreat,

She stepped into the wild.

The soothing voice, it led her on

As gentle as a breeze,

And soon enough she came upon

A clearing in the trees

The ground was covered with a plant

Of very ill repute

Its leaves hung in a drooping slant;

They called it mandrake root

When uprooted, the stories said,

The mandrake, without fail,

Would knock a foolish pony dead

With one ear-piercing wail

But stranger still, the form it took

Could chill a pony’s soul;

Its twisted roots would often look

''Just like a little foal!'

And at the clearing’s very core

A worn stone altar stood

It bore the evil runes of yore

To ward off light and good

Poor Carrot shook in fearful dread

At this corrupted place

But still she forged on straight ahead

To see what she must face.

As Carrot Top stepped with great care

Her tired mind ill at ease

She spied the figure of a mare

Emerging from the trees

“Now welcome, child, to my old shrine,

In this forgotten glade.

I think, with your son on the line,

A bargain can be made…”

The ragged mare looked small and old,

Though sturdy as an oak,

To ward herself from wind and cold

She wore an old green cloak

Her milky eyes seemed frail and weak

But held a hidden flame,

When Carrot brought herself to speak

She asked the pony’s name.

“Oh child, I’ve been called many ways

But none that you have seen

For ponies that I meet these days

I’m just the Mare in Green.

I’ve seen the trouble you’ve been through

With your son’s losing fight,

And so I wish to offer you

A chance to set things right.

For I can grant to you great wealth,

Your coffers I can fill,

So you can buy, for your son’s health,

That Crystal Daffodil!”

It seemed too good to be all true

Could such a thing be real?

The farmer asked what she must do

For her side of the deal

The Green Mare’s creepy laughing broke

The silence ‘round the glade,

She reached her hoof beneath her cloak,

And pulled a wicked blade.

“To this shrine, olden ponies came

To offer sacrifice

Now I want you to do the same

To pay this bargain’s price.

An innocent you must bring here

Whose life is at its start

Then lay her on the altar, dear,

And pierce her noble heart

When you’ve done that, I’ll let you see

The secret that I hold,

And you will most assuredly

Start raking in the gold

And once you’ve done it four times more

We’ll both have reached our goals

You’ll have your son back from death’s door

And I’ll have five more souls!”

She offered Carrot Top the knife

But Carrot shouted “NO!”

She swore upon her very life

She’d never sink so low!

“If that’s your stance, dear, I don’t mind

You’re free to walk on out,

Just know that you will never find

A cure for Carrot Sprout.

But should you do right by your son

And child, I think you will,

You cannot stop until you’re done

Once you’ve first made a kill…”

And as she muttered those last words,

She looked up to the sky

A flock of jet black, cawing birds

Came swooping from on high

They covered her from tail to face;

A most disturbing scene,

And when they left, there was no trace

Of any Mare in Green.

Then Carrot Top was wise enough

To quickly run away

And though she’d wheeze and huff and puff,

She didn’t stop ‘til day.

>>298943

CANTO V

Twas dawn when Carrot reached her home

And softly shuffled in

She swore that she would never roam

Into the woods again

She snuck upstairs without a peep

And checked on Carrot Sprout

Her darling boy was still asleep

So soon she too passed out

But when she woke at eight o’clock

In pain and hating life

Her nightstand gave her quite a shock:

It held the Green Mare’s knife!

She loudly gasped in utter fright

Her body shook with fear

She didn't take the knife last night,

How had it gotten here?

But Carrot pushed fear from her head

And hid the knife away

With popping joints she rose from bed

And went to face the day.

She made some breakfast for her son

And took it up the stairs

She chatted with him one-on-one

To help ease all his cares

But soon she had to go away;

She had a farm to run

With mouths to feed and bills to pay

She stepped out in the sun

She tended to her tasty crops --

Her usual routine

She sprinkled water on their tops

To keep their lush leaves green

And as she gazed out at her fields

She prayed with all her soul

That harvest time would bring high yields

And keep her coffers full

For earning bits to save her son

Was always on her mind

But through hard work, she’d get it done

And put this trial behind.

She toiled for many hours straight

With countless chores to do

And as the day was growing late

At last she saw them through

But as she settled for the night

She heard a noise outside

And out her door she saw a sight

That she could not abide

Another filly from the school

Was standing on the road

And hurling insults sharp and cruel

At her humble abode.

She’d seen this young pink mare in town

And knew of her high rank

She wore a shining diamond crown

That also marked her flank

Her verbal barbs, so tinged with hate,

Were meant for Carrot Sprout

She mocked the sick child’s ghastly fate

And boasted of her clout

And up above her, Carrot Top

Heard Sprout begin to cry

This monstrous teasing had to stop;

So outside she did fly!

Her heart aflame with fury’s fire,

She stormed out on the lawn

She warned the filly of her ire

If she did not get gone

But to the farmer’s great surprise

The filly did not care

With hatred gleaming in her eyes

She mocked the simple mare

Her country bumpkin life was sad

And what was even more

She raised her child without a dad --

She clearly was a whore!

But worst of all was Carrot’s shame

When it was cruelly said

That she deserved to take the blame

When her poor son was dead

For had she planned and saved a bit

Just stored some cash away

She’d be prepared when trouble hit

And Sprout would be okay.

It’s said there is no crueler thing

Than harsh words that are true;

That insult had a truthful ring,

The carrot farmer knew.

So down in Carrot’s timid breast

The mare felt something snap

A rage-filled cry rose from her chest;

She gave the girl a slap!

The filly rubbed her tender cheek

And gasped in disbelief;

The humble farmer, oh so meek,

Was quickly filled with grief

But then the filly gave a frown

And cleared her throat to say

Her daddy owned the whole damn town

And he would make her pay

His legal team was up to snuff

For such an easy suit;

He’d sue the farmer, take her stuff,

And leave her destitute!

Poor Carrot Top was well aware

This was no idle threat

She lost her cool and now the mare

Was swimming in regret

She’d go to jail and lose her gold

To pay the legal cost

Her son would be out in the cold

And surely would be lost

But somewhere deep inside of her

A dark voice made it clear

She’d be safe if this filly were

To somehow disappear…

And plus, the Green Mare in the woods

Would want her soul to steal

She already would have the goods,

So why not make a deal?

She wrestled with that haunting fact

She weighed it in her soul

Could she commit an evil act

To save her precious foal?

In moments, Carrot's course was set

She cursed the stars above

Then struck her foe without regret

All in the name of love

The filly crumpled to the ground

Under her harsh attack

She dragged her off without a sound

And stuffed her in a sack

She tied the sack up extra tight

Then grabbed the Green Mare’s blade

And then she slunk off in the night

To seek the ancient glade…

>>299004

CANTO VI

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 sparse 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!"

>>299086

CANTO VII

Poor Carrot ran through wood and hedge

And though she knew not how

She met the profane forest's edge

With dawn's light on her brow

Her muscles tired through and through,

Exhaustion slowed her gait

Yet she still had much work to do;

The potion could not wait.

She reached her humble carrot patch

And with a pensive breath

Undid her satchel's rusty latch

And grasped the brew of death

With closely measured careful drops

She poured it to and fro

And as the potion hit her crops

They shone with magic's glow

And once the potion all was gone

She put the flask away

Then trudged across her dewy lawn

Right at the break of day.

She went inside her worn front door

To check up on her foal

She found him sleeping with a snore -

A peaceful, happy soul!

The harrowed farmer had a drink

To block out what she'd done

Then went upstairs to sleep a wink

Beneath the morning sun.

She shut her eyes and tried to rest

But sleep came fitfully

Her blade within the filly's chest

Was all her dreams could see

And some time hence she heard a noise

That work her with a jolt

She ran downstairs with speed and poise

For it came from her colt

Her sickly son bounced happily

His joyous grin was wide

He bid his mom to come and see

The miracle outside!

And when the farmer's gaze was drawn

Her lips uttered an oath

For all her crops had undergone

A truly massive growth

Their bright green stalks stood tall and proud

At least a sapling's height

Their orange hue was bright and loud

Their ripeness was just right

Each swollen carrot seemed to match

A large wood barrel's width

It did appear the humble patch

Was now the stuff of myth!

With jaw agape she took young Sprout

And, making not a peep

The son and mother both went out

A bounty rich to reap

Despite her incredulity

Her labors did begin

She used her ingenuity

To bring the harvest in

She sent her son to grab supplies

To build herself a winch

For picking carrots of this size

Would never be a cinch!

By noon she finished her machine

And yet she labored on

Her carrots, by their stalks so green,

From out the earth were drawn

With all her strength she pulled and pulled

Against each carrot's root

Her muscles strained and sweat drops rolled

To win her orange loot

By three, the steadfast Carrot Top

Had picked her small patch bare

She loaded up her monstrous crop

With tender loving care.

And once the cart was loaded in

She turned and went inside

To go prepare her sickly kin

To take him for a ride

In blankets thick she wrapped her sweet

To ward him from a chill

She placed him in the cart's high seat

Then left for Ponyville

And as the farmer pulled her cart

To sell her harvest's yield

She saw a sight that froze her heart

Encroaching on her field

For just beyond the furthest bound

Her carrots had been sown

Within the dark and fertile ground

Some mandrake root had grown!

But Carrot bottled up her fright;

She couldn't let Sprout know

The awful thing she'd done last night

To make her carrots grow.

>>299166

CANTO VIII

By eventide, fair Carrot Top

Sold out of all her stock

She packed away her humble shop

Then glanced up at the clock

She heard the giant tower's bell

Ring out its nighttime song

She hoped that her young son was well

And nothing had went wrong

Then on the tower's final chime

Two young ones trotted in

Her son and Sweetie, right on time,

Came hustling through the din

Young Sprout looked flush and full of joy

Despite his failing health

The farmer welcomed back her boy

While counting out her wealth.

She thanked young Sweetie for her care

And kindness towards her colt

She really was a fine young mare,

A worthy young adult!

The bashful Sweetie gave a shrug

With humble, practiced grace

She gave young Sprout a tender hug

A smile upon her face.

And once the fond goodbyes were said

The farmer packed her load

Into her worn cart's rough-hewn bed

And set off down the road.

They left the bustling town behind

Their dark path lit by torch,

Then reached their home only to find

Someone upon the porch!

The night's gloom hardly did display

The stranger's shrouded face

But Carrot saw her coat was gray

And she looked out of place

As Carrot Top and Carrot Sprout

Pulled up into the farm

The little stranger shouted out

And swore she meant no harm

She said that she was here this day

To find her missing friend

For she'd been walking out this way

Before last evening's end

And only then did Carrot sense

She hadn't took the time

To contemplate this consequence

Of her enormous crime

She'd raise suspicion back in town

As more foals met their fate

Their searching eyes would all bear down

To come investigate!

This filly was the first to ask

But surely not the last;

They'd complicate the farmer's task

Of saving Sprout real fast!

And as the filly did recite

Her lost friend's age and name

Poor Carrot knew her kill last night

Was surely just the same.

So Carrot stood up straight and taut

And spoke both loud and clear

She lied and said that she had not

Seen any foal 'round here

The filly searched the farmer's soul

With sparkling purple eyes

And Carrot feared this simple foal

Might catch her in her lies

For her identity was clear;

Her daddy ran the bank

The silver spoon that stamped her rear

Denoted wealth and rank

Her glasses made her look the part

Of one with wits quite fast

In science, spelling, math and art

She never came in last.

At last the filly's gaze was through

She spoke in tones quite slow

That should the farmer find a clue

She hoped she'd let her know

Just then a voice came from the cart

As Carrot's sickly youth

Struck fear into his mother's heart

By calling out the truth

Young Carrot Sprout, so kind and pure

Did what was good and right

He told the filly he was sure

He'd seen her friend last night!

He told how she had just appeared

When twilight's hour was nigh

And how she'd heckled, mocked, and jeered

To make him hurt and cry

The filly gasped in disbelief

And glared at Carrot Top

The farmer's gut sunk down to grief

She knew this had to stop!

That nosy child could never know

What happened in the wood

And so she told the foal to go

And stay away for good

Reluctantly she went away,

But soon, called out the youth,

She'd come back another day

And figure out the truth.

Thank God. I just finished a story where none of the poems rhymed and these couplets ought to wash the taste from my mouth. Keep making art, friend.

>>298841

>She was his mom, and he her son

>Though she was no one’s wife

>update was supposed to be up 2 months ago

Is op kill? Also op is it alright if I try my hand at reformatting the older pieces so you can upload it to fimfiction?

>>302257

Not dead. I'll try to get something out tomorrow. Was really working towards getting this all done for Halloween, but life got in the way and I sort of lost motivation once that deadline passed. If you're feeling ambitious, I would be honored if you would rework my stuff into proper prose. The only one I'd ask you leave alone is Warmth, as I really hate the ending to that one and would like to rewrite it someday.

>tfw procrastination hits and its been a whole month later.

>pic related

I've completed reformatting 3 small stories since this is my first time trying it, but it was pretty simple since you seem to write in prose even in greentext form. I'd like for you to look at them though before moving on to some of the bigger ones in case there's something you don't like or want changed.

pastebin links:

equestrian culture 101 - https://pastebin.com/3mQy5f8j

Of Butterflies and Nightmares - https://pastebin.com/ii6W9Ruy

Rainbows Lesson - https://pastebin.com/3avEgWed

I dont know what overtook you to start prosing Tavifag stories but here's Bloom Together as a PDF. I had it laying around from that Project Shekeloosa, when /pone/ tried compiling a book of fanfiction. Maybe we should actually print this one, just to boost publicity and lord it over /mlp/

>>299251

>>299250

CANTO IX

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!"

>Mfw OP comes back and revives the thread

>Mfw /pone/ book and Newfag roundup getting restarted and finished whenever I stop being a lazy shit

>Mfw Questing in Equestria is almost over so the /pone/ game can be continued

>Mfw God's in his Heaven, all's right with The World

Is this the year /pone/ finishes it's old projects and unfucks their shit?

>>310822

You fucking jinxed it, faggot!

Just kidding. I'm a huge loser. Bumping this from page 12 because I'm working on the next canto and will have it out this weekend if it kills me. See you then.

>>316779

thx bb

>>310810

CANTO X

When Carrot came back to her stead

The moon was sinking low

She took a breath and grasped her door

And cracked it nice and slow

For Sprout was sleeping in his room;

She had to do her best

To keep things silent as a tomb

So he could get his rest

Yet just as she had come inside

She heard a noise above!

She climbed the stairs in urgent stride

To check up on her love

And once she cleared the final flight

Her fear did quickly sink

For Sprout was merely up at night

To grab something to drink

Her heartbeat fell to walking pace

Her dread all went away

She asked, a smile upon her face,

Just how he felt today

Sprout turned to greet his mother dear

His grin was fast and hale

Yet all at once he squeaked in fear

And gave a fearful wail!

His hooves forgot their careful grips

His cup fell to the floor

With cries of “MONSTER!” on his lips

He slammed his bedroom door.

Poor Carrot’s tongue was tied and lame,

With nothing then to say

No words to make her child’s fear tame

And seal it all away

Confusion struck her like a bolt

Just what had she done wrong?

She called out to her erstwhile colt

In tones both soft and strong

And then, to Carrot’s great chagrin

As she went down the hall

She saw her face reflected in

The mirror on the wall

Her mane was mussed and full of twigs

Her eyes were cold and dead

But worse than tired eyes and sprigs,

Her face was painted red

For when she plunged her deadly knife

Within her quarry’s breast

The heart had spurted out its life

Upon her face and chest!

The killer meeting Carrot’s eyes

Was not a tender mare

Her love and kindness both were lies

Death dwelt within her stare

No wonder that her poor young child

Had hid in record time

Her face was savage, cruel, and wild;

A token of her crime

She skirted ‘round poor Sprout’s lost drink,

A raging storm within,

And stumbled to the bathroom sink

To wash away her sin

The water came in one crisp jet

So cool upon her face

She diligently washed, and yet

The blood would not displace!

She rinsed and scrubbed to no avail

Used every soap she could

She gave a weak and panicked wail;

This really wasn’t good!

And after struggling for some time

The farmer’s thoughts turned dark

Could this be vengeance for her crime?

Must she now bear this mark?

Would Sprout spend all his youthful days

In fear of mommy’s face?

Could he not dare to meet her gaze

And run off in disgrace?

How could she show herself in town

In this horrendous state?

The two young foals that she cut down

Had now made clear their fate!

They’d lock her in a deep, dark hole

And throw away the key

Her precious Sprout, her darling foal

Would die in agony

The tears flowed freely down her cheek

For red was all she saw

She gave a violent, bloody shriek

And scrubbed her poor face raw

Despite the burning, seething pains

She simply would not stop

Determination swelled her veins

And bolstered Carrot Top

This would not be the end, she cried,

Voice full of rage and fire

The blood of those young foals who died

Could not escape her ire

She’d scrub and scrub ‘til all was well

She would not quit this day

She’d save her son from Red Plague’s hell

And scour this mark away

And finally, the tide was turned

Her face was pure and clean

Her tingling skin was scraped and burned

But blood could not be seen

Thank you for not giving up on this great work, Tavifag.