The Election

The election date was settled, There were only two contenders - An Angel named Forthright And the God Who now presided; But the polls predicted Forthright's right-wing swing! Angel Forthright deemed God useless, Said He'd lied and cheated - Drowned millions in The Flood; Covered Pompeii up with mud For little more than enjoying life's vast pleasures! God had backed His actions up, Putting everything up front: "The people there had sinned, Throwing caution to the wind. You cannot say they never had fair warning!" "You lie!" cried Angel Forthright; "Even You cannot deny it. What of Soddom and Gomorrah? Your life is steeped in horror. You'd just as well throw in the towel right now! And then of Precious Eden - You said Adam was a Heathen. Put temptation in his way Then You have the nerve to say That he'd defied the Laws of God and all that's sacred! I ask you dear voters, Is He the One to hope on? This poor conniving fool Who thinks Godhood's just a tool To use towards His own scheming devices!" But Forthright's fury turned to panic When the people dubbed him manic They said God's gifts had far outnumbered All the things that He had blundered And they'd much prefer to rest their hopes on Him! Angel Forthright bowed his mane For his rhetoric was in vain And one phrase rang through his mind As he left the crowds behind - The haunting sound of 'Blessed are the Meek...'