The Manuverist

Universalist technology squad coupled with fire and ice, Speedy fellows counteract with life , watching the birds lay low. I swallow my sentiments and lent my penance, there is a monster in my eyes and its running from faith. Space and time continue to roll down the grassy hill at the bottom of my stomach. Tears are taken but never given away , cut my face turn black to grey and style my fellows with passion and hast, people speak and people look at me with thoughts of just punishment, Follow me down to the fence at the corner, lay down by me now my lier my hornet. Its plain stagnet water dried with dirt, grow me from the sun bury me in the earth. The sounds that I make are the grounds I break.The Manuverist.