strange conversation

In the quiet of the dawn, where mist meets the green, Two silhouettes emerge, both calm and serene. With steel in their grip, eyes locked in a stare, They commence a dance deadly fair. **Engage in the guard, blades poised to defend,** A feint to the left, the duelists contend. **Advance and retreat, a rhythm they weave,** Testing defenses, in what they believe. **Lunge with precision, aim to disarm,** The clashing of swords, a cause for alarm. **Parry and riposte, a swift exchange,** Metallic voices in a conversation strange. **Bind the blades, in a twist of the wrist,** Seeking control, through the foggy mist. **Disengage and strike, a move so slick,** The air cuts sharply, the tension thick. **Footwork precise, they circle and sway,** Each step measured, in this lethal ballet. **A cut to the flank, quickly deflected,** Intentions masked, and attacks redirected. **The final thrust, a fate to decide,** One stands victorious, as the other subsides. In the silence that follows, respect is paid, To the skill and the courage, in the duel displayed.