Answer:
If you break me, I do not stop working. If you touch me, I may be snared. If you lose me, nothing will matter.
Put into a pit, locked beneath a grate, guarded through the night, yet it still goes out.
With pointed fangs it sits in wait. With piercing force it doles out fate, over bloodless victims proclaiming its might. Eternally joining in a single bite.
I have legs but never walk, I may have flowers but no soil, I hold food but never eat.
My first is in wield, sever bones and marrow. My second is in blade, forged in cold steel. My third is an arbalest, and also in arrows. My fourth is in power, plunged through a shield. My fifth is in honor, and also in vows. My last will put an end to it all.
This food is a tortilla filled with cheese and sometimes chicken before being heated or cooked.