You try to kill me, yet I still win. I grind your very memory away, And powder even great structures of old.

A face, aloof, upon my head, And feathers on my tail. My name: the fraction I am worth. Used oft to label hail.

I walk with kings and crawl with worms, I end all tales and quiet storms. You can't escape, delay, or hide - I take all things, yet never bide. I’ve kissed every creature, both mighty and small.

In the garden, I meant deceit; In infinity, myself I eat. I don't weigh things despite my scales; My venom flows through ancient tales.

I speak in riddles, swift and sly. A silver tounge, a watchful eye. Deals are struck beneath my grin. I never lose-though I won't quite win. Im fluid wit, I twist, I slip- What name am I both God and drip?