Pupil Tremble

Flicker is what comes congruent to him

Carries his passion for repercussions

Lamp held upon the unseen revelry

The revulsion of pleas' arrival...

Resonating in a mold fidelity

Forgets knocking if it's taken as rival

Knowing the valid Januaries coming

Tuning to too for getting into

It is not the precaution but a compulsion

Living like wrapped in a polyester fabric

Puncturing the air filled orbs

Inhibited mouth of the pencil

It is not that it's gone to madness

This is what's called inflammation

Never getting the replications wanted

Wished attempts the others' advices

Anticipating the fatality instead

But still granting the "wanting"

Italicizing the commas, flagellating the dot

Resolution of a human in front of a cliffhanger

Pride of savvy the nouns for a short life brander

Resurrection is when it's needed to believe in

It is all happening in a trembling pupil looks towards the life's frontline

Rejuvenating when the expiration of the oneself comes

Wishing this life would be having a lighter meal

Representing when the love of others' showing the signs to oneself

Accompanying this life is what he wishes most

Periods are unable to reach periodicity

Striking back is what they all care about in the time

He doesn't care that though

He just wants to feel prolapsing with the fear he is carrying inside

It has never gone too far till the madness had seen in the horizon

That's what we say losing oneself in booze to this

The sonority is not enough to get the wanted from the far-line

Provisionlessness sequence feels unreal even though it is sprawling in front of the eyes like a feast

Waiting the crash

Still serving the cheese and chocolate sauces

Magnificence is sitting on the throne of divinity

Proud of the oneself with the scratches on the hard skin

Criminal offensiveness...

It is all being seen inside the pupil

Scared to tell the one's story

Slinging heart shaped tears

Smiling tired and letting the water flux through the countenance

Just holying and giving too much to that lunacy on the moon's light side

Vagary or just a small twist he is showing

Syncromania of love and this fatigue

Scared to face the life still

Watching the scenery with amazement

Still loving but so exhausted

So much that he cannot walk anymore

He needs to rest and sit somewhere instead of tiring the legs more

It is all for closing the eyelid and blurring the pupil's vision