Divine Archer

There once was an Archer, divine He created a love as zealous as yours and mine Hewn from a strong and sturdy branch He fashioned a bow From dust He created a bowstring as supple as a piece of dough This Archer set out with bow and arrow in hand He desired to set love’s fire to the land With the strength of the bow, the flaming arrow sent forth With the docility of the string, it's projectile was birthed Neither the bow nor the string took claim To the arrow's path, success, or shame For they both knew, the two made one, That, in the Archer, the victory had been won Therefore they neither fret nor frown And through this they have won the martyr’s crown Resting in their Master’s hands They had hope in their unknown plans