Dialogue Between The Soul And The Self Poem by Mystic Qalandar

the horizon dims,
and you tremble as faces blur
into solemn evanescence.
yet I am here—
beneath each fading contour,
beneath each sorrowed breath.

the glass unveils truths
you once refused to see,
yet it cannot touch
the stillness I have guarded
within you.

these lines you fear—
etched by the slow hand of years—
belong not to a stranger,
but to the form you mistook
for your essence.
time—its patient cartographer—
traces only the shell of being,
while I remain the pattern—
beneath all patterns,
the light no border can restrain.

your laughter, though brave,
returns now as something distant.
you have forgotten its echo—
how it once rose from my silence.
the mirror summons ghosts
of unchosen paths,
yet their voices dissolve
before they reach the place—
where I abide.

you ask:
who is this stranger
wearing your face,
this quiet thief stealing
your calm, your knowing?
listen—
that thief is forgetting itself:
a shadow born
in the space between—
your pulse and mine.

still, your rebellion stirs—
that ache against dissolution—
and that uprising is me.
I am the current of the Infinite
moving through your dust,
the hidden breath
returning to its Source.

let me cast this shadow
from the house of your being;
let me open the windows of illusion
to the wind where all shadows fade.
this dwelling is ours—
and has always been mine to keep.

for no reflection
can claim the truth of you.
mirrors may cradle your image,
but they cannot bind what I am—
the traveler of radiance
walking the unseen corridors within,
the one shaped in light,
the one who endures
when every image falls away.

I am your soul—
and I have never left you.

—November,14,2025