The crescent rises tonight,
its wounds laid bare.
Why do you bend so low?
There is tremendous blood loss—
warlords reign over the world;
the sadists leap with joy
at the crescent’s pain.
Yet when you touch it,
you find resilience beneath,
smiling in defiance,
hoping for victory
at an enormous cost.
Its brow sweats blood,
slowly turning into a red moon,
a moon painted in martyrs’ blood—
children, women, young, and old sacrifice.
You must dig deep
for answers buried in the earth,
hidden beneath silenced questions.
They will remain unspoken
until the final victory.
MyKoul