The battle

Here I sit, knife in hand.
Staring at you from across the table
Our makeshift no-mans-land
You look back equally armed
And we both know it will be amazing
If either of us walk away unharmed
I scowl at you and spit forth threats
You sneer back and literally spit
While those watching are placing bets
I weigh the odds, I have a chance
there will be no backing down
I grin and say "Let's dance."
So confident, so eager to try
So much violence and greed
Fighting over the last piece of pie.