The Archer's vigil

Stanza 1) In shadows deep where history sleeps, Whisper the nameless, their vigil keeps. Bound by no form, they roam free and wild, Eternal as mountains, the earth's first child. (Stanza 2) Voices of wind, and the roots that bind, They speak in the rustling leaves behind. From the boar’s fierce might to the wolf’s keen stare, Each beast a mask they choose to wear. (Stanza 3) Arash, the bold, with bow in hand, Called to the crest of this ancient land. Aimed not just to split the ground with grace, But to honor EE-raan, the first of place. (Stanza 4) "The land speaks through us," they claimed at night, "To you, O Archer, we grant our sight. Though aryan gods reign with sky for throne, We are the blood, the soil, and stone." (Chorus) Thus spoke the gods without a name, From the ancient void from which they came. Eeraan, the cradle, old beyond old, In her veins, the story of earth is told. “Though bound by the bow of celestial will, Your spirit, AArash, clings to the earth still. Defy the gods of sky and their ordered rays, Your soul is of Our dust, where our ancient whispers hold sway.” Thus spoke the gods without a name, From the ancient void from which they came. EEraan, the cradle, old beyond old, In her veins, the story of earth is told. “But heed our words, brave archer of lore, The path you choose carries a burden most sore. Your lifeblood must mark the arrow’s easterly flight, And your soul shall pay for this destruction of right. Thus spoke the gods without a name, From the ancient void from which they came. EEraan, the cradle, old beyond old, In her veins, the story of earth is told. Thus spoke the gods without a name, From the ancient void from which they came. EEraan, the cradle, old beyond old, In her veins, the story of earth is told. AArash, the bold, with bow in hand, Called to the defense of his ancient land. Aimed not just to split the ground with grace, But to honor EEraan, the first of place. (Stanza 13) High atop the mountain's brow, AArash stands, his time is now. The sunrise paints the skies in gold, He recalls the tales of old. (Stanza 14) With every heartbeat, he feels the land, The rivers, the valleys, under his command. His blood, a sacred offering to make, For EEraan’s sake, his life he'll stake. (Stanza 15) He draws the bow with all his might, Bound to the earth, to the fading light. His spirit soars as the arrow flies, A trail of light across the skies. (Stanza 18) The arrow travels, a burning line, From dawn to dusk, a sign di-vine. AArash’s body falls to the stone, His soul descends; yet he shall not atone. (Stanza 17) The gods watch on with sol-emn grace, Their ancient voices fill the space. "AArash the brave, Eeraan’s bright son, Your deed this day will never be undone." (Stanza 18) In the heart of the oak, where the arrow lands, A new boundary grows, shaped by his hands. His sacrifice seals the fate of the endless plains, The Archer's echo in the wind remains. Thuuus spoke the gods without a name, From the ancient void, from which, they came, Eeran, the cradle, old-beyond-old, In her veins, the story of earth was told. "AArash the brave, O archer of lore This day shall live on forever-more "AArash the brave, O archer of lore This day shall live on forever-more