Epistle To The Rebellious Self Poem by Mystic Qalandar

To the anarchic self I write this letter—
artisan of guile, deception made sacred craft—
to whom, in one rapt surrender, I entrusted all.
I offered my fragile flames to the gale
whose nature was to quench.

It hurled my lanterns into earth's cold womb
as though they were crystal;
they shattered into a thousand glinting shards.
It roared with derisive mirth,
cauterizing my heart:
"Behold—they burn no longer with former divinity."

Aeons they lay fractured, dissolved.
Within me surged a wrath so fierce
it drowned the soul's own music.
Fragments of light fled every horizon,
hushed into ethereal silence.

That veiled night endured until the dawn
I unmasked the rebel self—
ground it to cosmic dust,
that sorceress leering from the heart's mirage.

Then gnosis dawned:
the hour had ripened to claim my sovereign path.
I became theophanic, self-luminous,
steward of the holy essence.

Thus I hail this veiled adversary—
for in its unveiling, I unveiled my primal soul,
the very soul it ached to unmake.

Today I keep the feast of victory:
it dances no more upon my soul's abyss.
For without its shadow, without its ravage,
I would never have pierced the veil to know—
within eternity's weave abides a Light
inextinguishable, eternally ablaze.

—December,23,2025