Aroma

I see a word drowning into the abysm
Of an absolute silence;
An exiled word of throat
Ever since lost its voice.
Light travels to solitude
And darkness broods all over.
I see a boy holding a lantern
At the peak of a forsaken soul,
Volcanos erupt in his eyes
And stab veins mercilessly,
I taste that bloody rain
Drizzling through his tongue.
Eyes roll into sunken vacuum,
Soft fur of tranquility touches me;
I slip into a hypnotic trance
Hearing ecstatic incantation
Of incensed souls.
The smell of healing aroma
Of tinged words in blood infusing me.
And I see the lost word is rising
Above the horizon of human fear
From the abysm of solitude.
It’s rebirth of a word once drowned
and that was ‘me’ once lost.