Glass shatters,
Chains clatter,
Sparks spray the air from
Steel on steel.
Your eyes tell me
You're ready to run.
The clash of
Iron on iron
Fear my waving fire,
I'll set your rhymes
Ablaze,
But most of all my child
Beware me,
For I am as
The Bandersnatch.
Don your armor,
Lock your doors,
You dare,
March against I, your terror,
Your fear?
I've become a raging fire
In the night,
And you a field of golden hay.
Shy away from my skill
with the blade,
And try to evade my words,
Crafted with a time seasoned hand.
Be afraid, little one,
Of the fury in my iron verses.
But most of all my child
Beware I, the Bandersnatch!
This is a joke between my dear poet friend The Mellon and me. He challenged me to a duel, and it got poetic. See The Mellon for the first "Fight Me".
