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by: Sir Wolfr1 2000 That rests upon my neck There is no jewels upon it Nothing for which your eye to beck But to a submissive it has such meaning That no vanilla could hope to understand To us it is the Alpha and Omega For it is placed upon us by our Master's hand Our vanilla sisters call us weak or foolish To wear a sign of ownership so proud But in the words of Master Shakespeare 'Me thinks they doth protest too loud' For I once was as they are now Ignorant of the joys they could not know And as I kneel here at my Master's feet I realize that the first step to being raised above them Tis to knee low To kneel before my Master As doth the willow before the storm To offer submission for His dominance This is no sickness but this the norm For what could be more natural Than to accept for what my heart and soul doth crave To kneel in pride before Him and say to all the world He is my Master and I am His slave O my poor vanilla sisters Who upon my head heap scorn Look deep inside your womanhood And understand why for you I mourn I am a proud yet humble submissive I am what I was born to be I do not rage against the feelings within my heart and soul I bow and accept them instinctively It rather is you my sister who rages against what you are Though you may deny it to your final breath But to refuse the dreams you have in the dark of the night It is not the most bitter of all forms of death? When you have those dreams in the dark of night Tell me of the men about who you dream Are those men strong and powerful? Do they smile as you protest that they are cruel? Do they use whip, can, oar and crop To control and enforce their rules? You know the answer deep down in your soul Through the word on your lips are like dust You know what the truth is You have no excuse My sister you are already one of us 
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