Foundations of Protection

Sword against axe, man against man.

When Sword struck true, and Axes blood ran,

Sword stood awaiting, while axe fell flat.

And then Sword looked at Axe as if he were a gnat.

Too well trained to look up in defeat,

Axe lay there, gazing with shame at swords feet

Unnatural boots of blood and night

They wore an angry glow of burning spite.

Chatter Axe heard from the boots sword wore,

haunting whispers to live with him, had he been let to endure.

The boots were demonic that much he knew,

and as Sword closed in, to fever pitch they grew.

"'las," they breathed, "we are but Swords base."

And Sword smiled as fear became Axes face.

So Axe said "What witchcraft is this that your boots do sigh."

And Sword replied as he raised his blade high,

"Aren't they light, and so clean and so neat."

As Sword struck final, he said, "but you couldn't wear them, since they're bound to my feet."