**A Conversation of Light and Crescent: A Milad Poem**

The **Crescent Moon** rose soft in the sky,
Its silver edges whispered a sigh.
"Tonight is bright, the blessed eve,
A night when peace and love will weave.
Eid-e-Milad, the Prophet's birth,
Shines once more upon the Earth."

The **Lamp of Gold**, with flickering flame,
Listened close, and softly came.
"Oh Crescent Moon, your light is clear,
But tell me more, what do you hear?
What tales of mercy, what words of grace,
Do you bring to warm this sacred space?"

The Crescent smiled, with gentle gleam,
And painted pictures in a dream:
"Born was He, the guiding light,
A mercy to this world of night.
With kindness, wisdom, gentle care,
He taught mankind to rise, to dare."

The Lamp then glowed a brighter hue,
Its flame grew tall, its heart anew.
"Let me, too, spread warmth and glow,
On this night, let the world know,
The love of the Prophet, serene and wide,
Is the light we carry deep inside."

Together they shone, a pair in the dark,
The Crescent above, the Lamp a spark.
In silent harmony, they softly prayed,
As Milad's blessing on the world was laid.