"Look to yourself!" he cries without remorse
swinging his ax with all mighty force.
The flat-eyed Midget dodges with charm,
and draws another cut on the sore Viking's arm.

"You can't win with those" screams the loathsome swain.
Swearing at Midget, he swings yet again.
Midget smiles, "Swing too hard, bleed precious spirit!
Small cuts, draw blood, bit by agonizing bit."

"Stand still and fight, thou slithering knave,
My ax shalt dispatch thee speedily to thy grave!"
"Your style and breath, O Viking, stink the most of all...
As large as you are, the louder you will fall."

Viking smites again, the heaviest blow he'd known,
lops Midget's arm, clean through the bone.
Midget hops in pain, yet averse to die,
but pierces the sloppy Viking's unguarded eye.

"How could you strike a blow so unjust!
I meant not to kill you, but now I really must."
"Quiet, Viking, you never used your mind,
merely swing brutish ax, even if half-blind"

Viking sadly looks at the poor misshapen dwarf,
"Thou piteous wretch, what honor would you know of?"
Suddenly, an arrow stray drops Midget to his knee
Smiling sadly unto death, he says, "Viking didn't defeat me."