The world stills to watch...

When a submissive woman kneels

They just don’t understand!
It’s not the slap on our hand.
We are not leather freaks
It is not the Pain she seeks.

Her song is fire her voice is strong,
Her spirit is unbroken, No, I am not wrong.

If the flower wilts from lack of life,
When the snow caps cry and show their strife,

When the feather falls from the eagle on high
She is hunter and Mistress of the blue, blue sky.

You anticipate their submission.

The rhythms that surround her, the native drum beat,
Grow louder as fierce wind picks up its feet.

It lives deep inside her, the need to be strong
But when His voice calls her, she is where she belongs.

She will lay down her fire, her crown and her trident,
The lighting will still, but her spine straight and unbent.

She gracefully insinuates herself to her knees
The position He’s chosen is like honey to bees.

So, you see when they say we are unworthy and weak
Of whom are they thinking and what do they seek?

When weak woman kneels that is just another notch,
When a fiery, fierce woman kneels, the World Stills to Watch.