FOUNTAIN OF STONE

I have a longer tusk
An ivory for an eye
And, smaller teeth
To gaunt and grind
The sickness,
In emaciated leap

I have a line mark
Losing by whiskers
And, loud whisper
To grudge and grieve
The bout
Lost in our heart

I have tinkling bells
To blare its sound
And, wider area
To sludge a slush
Deeply brown
Through the fountain of stone