The Pleasure Of Soliloquy Poem by Mystic Qalandar

What delight, today, in speaking to myself—
to abandon that other breath,
now drifted far away,
a shadow dissolved in wind,
nameless, lost to oblivion.

When I speak to myself,
what emerges?
Words bloom like stars
across the inner sky—
all those hidden "whys"
now unfolding, clear, unveiled.

In soliloquy,
time's chains loosen,
the silent grip releases.
I pause in endless moments,
my voice becoming
a wave of the ocean's truth.

Now I speak to you
within the echo of silence.
How strange, this swift inner union—
the heart grasps what the mind denies.
Vast realities slip
from trembling palms.
You are softness, balm, a bridge.

Personal Covenant
I lay before you
every granted beauty:
the curling vein of a leaf,
the river's steady murmur,
the soul's wild garden—
inner, free.

That other breath retreats,
a restless exile
wandering deserts of doubt,
chasing the deceit of mirages.
But I will not abandon this truest form,
nor shatter the mirror of grace.
No more division, no inner war—
only the call to wholeness remains.

Yet I cannot fully merge into you—
I am unprepared soil,
emotions tangled
in thorny thickets of memory,
awaiting rain
so wounds may turn fertile.

Divine Longing
O Essence, I yearn to be known complete.
In Your gaze, where every veil falls away,
I and You are annihilated,
one in the other,
and that exile finds healing,
never to flee again.

I do not yet know
if I can love You
as You deserve—
with prophetic fire,
deep deluge,
unbreaking truth.

Light of the Soul
But here, in this dialogue,
I begin the ancient art:
mending the broken heart.
Pause.
Let the long night deepen.
Come, let us become one,
knowing unity,
and seek the light within the soul.

—December,20,2025