Mirror Of My Soul Poem by Mystic Qalandar

My mirror speaks—
a tongue of silver sparks,
a sinking moon, and
shadows of stars.
At dawn's first light,
it hums my name,
a muted, foreign flame
that keeps its watch upon my sleep.

It shows me
the beast I was before a name,
before I drew breath—
formless, nameless, free of doubt,
lifeless yet enduring,
unseen, yet present.
A man in glass,
my talking effigy,
sings the song I only half-recall.
A whisper of my fractured
inner architecture,
the voice of my silent,
moving soul—
always free,
never truly chained.

This is my light,
this is my truth,
turning the self,
clearing it, refining it.
It robes my heart
in luminous, pure light,
and guards within
my own true self—
wild, divine, eternal youth,
witness to my broken being.

When I breathe,
the mirror believes I exist,
and finds its center once again.
The mirror speaks,
and with each tremor of the bell,
my locked gates open,
one by one.

MyKoul