A little late. But here it is:




For she shall not move to move me, nor utter words to bind me
With her spell.
She shall be still. Her limbs in leather strips frozen her wild heart
Beating .
Beating is her heart, I shall not lay on her one finger for I shall
Deny her.
Three times she shall be denied though she shall desire
The silver.
The silver of the collar I will keep. She has not yet this
Earned
Yearned, she has, but not yet learned the bitter-sweet truth
Of submission.
All must be subjugated to my cause-my cause and mine
Alone.
Alone in her bindings, alone and quiet she must remain
For now.
For now is not her time-nor shall it ever be. Her time
Is mine.