Exciled, Yet Never Abandoned Poem by Mystic Qalandar

Exiled, yet never abandoned—
for within our heart
a secret flame burns,
a guiding spark that whispers:
return, return.

Ancient thrones, forgotten stations,
call us onward.
The soul remembers
what the body has lost.
What was cast down
may yet be lifted.
What was broken
may yet be made whole.

Hope is the silent vow,
the certain fire within—
a step that does not falter,
a will carved from light,
a breath reshaping life anew.

So we rise,
walking toward endless horizons.
Stars stoop to our feet,
galaxies bloom within our lungs.
The weary step shatters stillness
and draws upon the void
the pure design of truth.

The wind chants our mysteries,
branches sway with our song,
dewdrops glisten along our pathways.
Every grain of light
becomes companion to our pilgrimage.

And here,
breath after breath,
time becomes creation.
Stillness trembles,
and bursts into hymn.

We are no longer mere wanderers—
we are the very dawn.
Each heartbeat a new world,
each thought opening a hidden gate.
In us, parallel universes awaken;
in us, the unseen is unveiled.

When we are robed
in our own radiance,
the dark itself turns luminous.
Every shadow, every moment
glimmers with our presence.

We walk the rivers of galaxies,
bathe in the fire of stars,
singing the hymn of freedom—
and every breath we take
is a universe born,
a new horizon unveiled,
a destiny authored
from the pure light of the soul.

Here—
we are not only alive.
We are eternal.
We are the song of infinity.
We are the shining homecoming
of every wandering star.

—September,30,2025