Poetry

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He sauntered in through Heaven’s gates,
Pride smeared across his face,
Each angel there, he dared to dare,
To try and check his pace.

The Fallen Angel of the Light,
Though lovely to behold,
Where shadow fell, burned flames of Hell,
And turned to ash pure gold.

Unhindered he approached the throne,
With jauntily raised brow,
He paused when there, then with a flair,
He gave a mocking bow.

“I bring you a complaint, my Lord,”
He spoke the name in jest.
“You’re on the throne, but You alone,
Believe that this is best.

“You claim as Yours the universe,
It’s You who run the show,
We have no voice, we get no choice
Whom we allegiance owe.

“We have no option whom we serve,
It’s rigged the way I see.
We live here too! To vote’s our due,
We need democracy!”

“My Lord,” the name in jest again,
“I bring with me today,
Three other gods to play the odds,
Pray, tell me what You say?”

God looked at him, then gave consent,
“Present your candidates,
Stand in your place and make your case,
Then you’ll here My debate.”

With wily grin and flaming sparks,
He rubbed his hands with glee,
“All who are here, lend me your ear,
I have with me these three:

“The first I bring’s the god of Time,
The Omnipresent god.
The humans live by what he gives,
No one escapes his prod.”

He waited to hear God’s refute,
“What do you say, my Lord?
My god of Time has done no crime,
You cannot say a word!”

“Time is created,” God proclaimed,
“I made him with My hand,
And listen well, you son of Hell,
Before Time was, I AM.

“And omnipresent, he is not:
On earth he may have pull,
But My domain’s free from his stain,
O’er Me he has no rule.”

He fumed and hissed out tongues of flame,
The calmed himself again.
“No matter; he was, of the three,
Least probable to win.

“But now I give my second god,
The great god of Science.
Men trust his whim, rely on him,
He’ll rule by omniscience.

“He knows it all, can you refute?
His knowledge unsurpassed!”
Eyes evil gleamed, because it seemed,
He’d beaten God at last!

“You think your god knows everything?
You’re misinformed at best.
Your deity, you have to see,
Has failed his share of tests.

“Though humans do believe your god,
His knowledge source is small,
He’s often wrong, his fault-list long,
I – God alone – know all.”

His second god slain by his foe,
Things looked no good at all,
His anger seethed; still, “By Your leave,
The last is best of all.

“My third god is omnipotent,
His power knows no bounds
Observe your fate: the god of Hate
Already rules earth’s grounds!”

Collective gasps assailed his ears,
At last he’d finally won!
God couldn’t speak: Hate made Him weak,
His ruling days were done!

Then horror filled his giddy mind,
When God’s voice thundered out:
“You writhing fool, Hate shall not rule!
His power has no clout!

“ ‘All-Powerful’ is Mine alone,
And I reign from above,
What Hate fears most, what halts his boast,
Real power comes from love.”

His anger burned with flames of fire,
His curses filled the air,
He spat and hissed, with smoky mist,
Though speak, he wouldn’t dare.

God looked at him, “You’ve failed, I fear,
Though using all your might.
My rule remains, I still shall reign,
I, only, have the right.”

So humbled, still his whisper burned,
Before he slunk away,
Without a sound, to lick his wounds,
“I’ll try another day.”

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