It is said any port in a storm,
But what if you cannot reach that port,
The white stallions thunder into you,
The coldness drags at you,
The darkness grasps at you,
Pummelled bruised you seek your port
Yet in that tempest a beacon of light.
In that moment you glimmer a light,
Warm, encouraging safety,
You struggle, guided,
Towards the safety of that port,
Into its embraces,
Allowing its arms to embrace you, warm you, provide for you.
This is the responsibility of a true Dominant,
The storm of instas in left behind as you enter the realm of piece and nurture
You reflect, glance in the mirror at the flotsam and jetsam that call themselves Doms,
You enter a new chapter safe in the knowledge that your harbour is secure from the grasping arms.
FLORADRAGON