The Fravashi: Guardians of the Soul in Zoroastrianism.

I: Invocation of the Spirit
O gentle Muse, with quill of heav’nly fire,
Unfold the tale of spirits pure and dire,
The Fravashi, those guardians of the soul,
Whose radiant wings o’er mortal fates do roll.
From Persia’s ancient hills their anthems rise,
A chorus bright beneath eternal skies,
To sing of Mazda’s will, and man’s high quest,
In realms where good and ill forever wrest.

II: The Pre-Existent Flame
Ere earth was framed, or stars did lend their gleam,
The Fravashi did dwell in boundless dream,
Unmade by time, yet born of wisdom’s grace,
A spark divine to light the human race.
From Mazda’s heart, their essence took its flight,
To choose the path of Asha, pure and right—
No stain of Druj doth mar their holy frame,
Eternal sentinels of sacred flame.
They stood with heav’n when chaos sought to reign,
And clad in might, did Angra’s wrath restrain—
A host of warriors, radiant and bold,
Whose hymns the Yashts in timeless verse unfold.

III: The Guardian’s Charge
Shall I compare thee to a star aloft?
Thy beams do pierce where mortal sight is soft,
A Fravashi, twin’d to each fleeting breath,
Doth guard the soul from birth unto its death.
Before the womb, thy choice was nobly made,
To stand with truth, where falsehood’s hosts array’d—
No sin doth dim thy everlasting eye,
Yet near thou dwell’st, when mortals weep or sigh.
In battle fierce, thy wings the storm do rend,
A shield to those who righteous ways defend.
When evil’s tide doth rise with bitter scorn,
Thou dost descend, a beacon newly born.
So shines thy light, through dark and fleeting days,
A guide to lead us on celestial ways.

IV: The Mortal Bond
Each man, each maid, doth bear this heav’nly guest,
A mirror’d self within the spirit’s breast—
Not soul alone, nor breath that fleeting flies,
But Fravashi, a star that never dies.
In Fravardigan, when shadows softly fall,
The righteous dead return at mem’ry’s call—
With incense sweet and blooms of tender hue,
We greet their grace, and they the world renew.
O’er waters clear, o’er fields of verdant bloom,
They pour their boon, defying death’s cold gloom,
And bid us strive with thought, and word, and deed,
To plant the seed where Mazda’s will doth lead.

V: The Cosmic Strife
O spirit fair, what pow’r doth thee endow?
Thy wings do sweep where mortal knees do bow,
In mēnōg vast, thy throne is set on high,
Yet gētīg feels thy vigil drawing nigh.
When Angra’s breath doth poison earth’s sweet air,
Thou dost arise, with Mazda’s strength to share—
A warrior clad in beams of golden fire,
To quench the dark with heaven’s pure desire.
At Frashokereti, time’s last bell shall ring,
The Saoshyant thy triumph loud shall sing,
When soul and Fravashi in joy unite,
And darkness fades before eternal light.
Thus dost thou stand, ‘twixt mortal and divine,
A thread of grace in fate’s unyielding line.

VI: The Ages’ March
In olden days, ere Zoroaster’s word,
The Fravashi in silence heav’nly stirred—
Perchance from Pitrs of the Vedic lore,
Or Daevas fair, ere evil’s curse they bore.
Through Darius’ reign, their might was dimly seen,
A shadow cast on Mazda’s royal sheen—
Yet Sassanid scribes, in Bundahishn’s page,
Did grant them voice upon a loftier stage.
They wrote of souls that chose the worldly fight,
To don the flesh and banish endless night—
Though Zurvan sought to dim their primal spark,
Orthodox hearts restored their sacred mark.

VII: The Winged Sign
Behold the Faravahar, aloft in gold,
A disc of wings, a tale of spirits told—
The man within, the soul’s eternal frame,
The ring of Asha, Mazda’s boundless name.
Two feathers spread, one lifts, one weighs below,
The choice of good o’er evil’s bitter woe—
A symbol wrought in stone by kings of old,
Now badge of faith, in fire temples bold.
Though scholars muse if kings or spirits reign,
Its form doth speak of heav’n’s unbroken chain—
A call to rise, as Fravashi do soar,
From earth’s frail dust to heav’n’s immortal shore.

VIII: The Legacy Endures
What is this Fravashi, that doth abide?
A star that burns where mortal hopes reside,
In Parsi rites, through Muktad’s tender care,
Their presence wafts on incense-laden air.
Though few now kneel where once great throngs did sing,
Their echo wakes the heart’s deep wandering—
A jewel worn, a banner proudly raised,
By Iran’s sons, in hist’ry’s haze amazed.
No fleeting ghost, nor angel bound to serve,
But partner bold in Mazda’s grand reserve—
Ere birth we chose, and after death we shine,
A timeless thread in fate’s eternal line.
So live they still, these spirits pure and free,
In choice and light, through all eternity.

IX: The Eternal Call
O Fravashi, thou radiant host of yore,
Whose wings do sweep from heav’n to earthly shore,
Thy tale doth rival gods of mortal ken,
Yet bids us rise as more than fleeting men.
No tyrant’s hand doth forge thy sacred might,
But will unbound, to join the cosmic fight—
Through verse, thy glory here I trace,
A hymn to lift the soul to boundless space.
Let fire blaze, let waters gently flow,
Till Asha reigns where once did shadows grow—
For Fravashi, with Mazda’s truth allied,
Doth guard the world, and all its fate decide.