I Am Eternal Revolution Poem by Mystic Qalandar

I am eternal revolution—
not whisper, but thunder in the marrow,
a storm stitched from proton and neutron,
each cell a crucible, each atom a cry.
I am the volcano's breath,
buried treasure surfacing—
a flash in the dark well of consciousness.

Thoughts? Shadows?
The creeping architects of tyranny—
I am Azrael to the despotic self,
the sacred flame that burns the false kingdom.
I do not die.

I am the bold, unbridled dawn,
rivers of light flooding the streets of the soul,
pure, unbroken, unashamed.
Where I fall, life erupts—
root, stem, leaf, blossom, fruit,
and again, the seed—
a circle of fire, a wheel of becoming.

I set the tyrant's chest ablaze,
crush the crown of the carnal self,
and each time I enter the field,
I come as hero, cloaked in light.
I am the soul's eternal revolution.

When I awaken,
rebel armies scatter like smoke,
sky, air, and earth cry out in one voice:
'Bravo! Welcome! '
When fists roar for war,
I trample the wolves in human skin,
shatter empires built on whispers,
on the slinking, serpentine self.
All governments of the ego
crumble beneath my radiance.

I am invincible—
unconquered, evergreen, eternal.
The sky, the imperishable,
is my source;
I am one stream of its endless fire.

I am eternal revolution.
I am the one appointed—
the flame, the flood, the fearless dawn.

—MyKoul