Achilles bade a cobbler make a shoe,
The rear of which was made of stainless steel;
Its leather nigh concealed from human view
What would ostensibly protect his heel.
When arrows randomly would hit their mark,
They'd glance from this or else the other side
As deft Achilles loudly bellowed, "Hark,
The threat of death is totally denied".
But, as he celebrated, long, in dance,
A lightning bolt, which he did not suspect,
Did strike what caused sharp arrows but to glance
From what had suffered not from his neglect.
E'er he could fall, the warrior was fried,
But he ne'er knew just how or why he died.