Answer:
I know a word of letters three. Add two, and fewer there will be!
Today he is there to trip you up. And he will torture you tomorrow. Yet he is also there to ease the pain, when you are lost in grief and sorrow.
A warrior amongst the flowers, he bears a thrusting sword. He uses it whenever he must, to defend his golden hoard.
It holds no blessings in disguise. Its rhymes are aimed at your demise, it's cast only to ruin, Whatever you are doin'.
What can you fold but not crease?
What did the baby corn say to its mother?