Tongue

Partition your patience,
The world, lingers on,
In guises of friendship,
Swirling mists of dark song,
From fog's farest side,
Where the reptiles, come from,
With flowing, and groaning,
And ancientest tongue,
That hisses, from lips,
That you thought, were lifelong,
Disrespect, circumspect,
Swelling chorus, so high,
That your heart, starts to freeze,
As you realise, you've died,
The cold, cruel breeze,
Steals, the last warming pulse,
As the play, of the fray,
Flies away, til it's gone.