The Crescent's Mask and the Awakening of Man

Behold! The crescent wears a mask of hollow light,

Wherein the shadows of dead faith breed endless night.

Civilizations bow to broken words and sighs,

And Reason’s flame is strangled by their cries.

Common sense, once noble, rots upon the vine,

The winds of intolerance snuff the lamps of grace,

The flowers of love wither unseen,

And the songs of peace turn into wailing dirges.

Fear, that ancient tyrant, binds the soul in twine,

Each man, a trembling player on a crumbling stage,

Recites the fearful lines that forge his cage.

Oh, Religion! Twisted by mimic tongue and deed,

Thou hast sown terror and crowned Ignorance with greed.

Lo! Womanhood is stripped and sold in shame,

And Childhood, once sacred, is trampled into dust.

The laughter of little ones fades into silence,

While fools sing ballads at the funeral of Thought’s name.

Borders, bloodied, bargain water, air, and gold,

And man slays peace to save a peace he cannot hold.

Humanity bleeds beneath a sky grown blind,

Yet Truth strides onward, leaving lies behind.

Oh, Man!

Remember — no faith shall rise above the soil that bore you;

No creed shall stand higher than the blood and tears of your land.

Patriotism is nobler than the banners of division,

And Nationalism, pure and just, is greater than any altar of hate.

The sun, in mockery, smiles on the dying moon,

Laughing at man’s self-eclipse and ruin.

But Truth, immortal, rides the endless sea —

While man is but dust, not destiny.

Oh, children of the stars! Awake from dreams of clay,

Tear off the crescent’s hollow mask,

And walk into the light of tolerance, love, and peace.