The Witch’s Memory part forty four

King Roland came to the very edge
He took the crown from atop his head
Placed it on the ground and said
“I plead upon the souls that are lost
Standing before you no matter the cost
I ask from you this very day
To take from me what you may
My life is but a petty thing
Taking any prick or sting
There is not much that I cannot take
However my daughter is not worth this stake
My father took from you all that did bloom
No matter the incoming doom
I ask of you to reverse
This stale and awful, awful curse
If it is my life that I must give
I will do so if my land and daughter will live
Strip from me my soul and title
But I can no longer remain idle
It is the blood which courses through my vein
Which has caused you so much pain I could have done more to prevent all this
To repay you is my only wish
Please, I beg, hear my plea
Take this debt away from me”
To his knees Roland fell
Wetness of his sorrow began to well
In his eyes he cast down low
If this was to work he did not know

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