Once I looked at the crescent 
It was so bright:
Pure, aspiring and righteous
In its shining light.
Clear skies of dark blue, with no clouds to loom
And the night was still young and so ready to bloom.

Yes, I looked at the crescent, so vain and bold
And then suddenly, I felt my blood run cold
Next to what I deemed a flawless light 
There came to be a darker side
A doppelgänger, a mocking parasite 
A phantom menace, an eyesore, a blot 
Uninvited, unwished-for, unsought.

Turn a blind eye! - that was my first thought 
Like a wounded bird I strained to take flight
I was lost, I was baffled and scornful, I tried
To shake off all the vice that impaired my sight;
To un-see, to un-feel; yet try as I might 
The dark shadow was here, still claiming its right.
So pervasive was it that my fiercest fight
Was futile and seemed to have cast a blight on the crescent too.
 
I stopped looking. As never hitherto
I averted my eyes, kept myself in the dark
Having mustered no strength to ever - look up
Like a thief in the night I ventured to steal a glance
At what filled me with pride and yet made me take this defensive stance

But what I saw then called for no defense.
Caused no shame nor guilt nor forced pretense 
What I dreaded before was no longer my foe
For I loved my virtue as I did my flaw 
And the dark and the light came to make a whole 
Merging into oneness, a complete and seamless soul. 

So I looked at the crescent but it was the moon I saw.