Gather 'round children and hear a ditty
How Pestilence at last learned pity
From a tender crowd of politicians
Or patience, at least, in his mission.
For once upon a warm, damp night,
On blackest horse, with skin of white
A horseman of apocalypse
Stopped off to drink or, maybe, piss.
The bar he chose was in D.C.
And Democrats were on T.V.
Engaged in a debate.
Four horsemen bring the Earth its fate.
For petty grievance, here were eight.
One proclaimed compassion
For the poor and the dirty
The next swore firm action
To defend our liberty
One expressed frustration
At injustice by race
The next claimed administration
Of competence and taste.
And on and on the candidates prattled
Until The Plague's dry bones were rattled.
By the time the horseman drained his beer
He forsook his call for now and here
As he put his work up on a shelf,
In rasping voice he told himself:
"Though Satan's fire burn eternally,
It shan't outsmoke democracy.
And though I'd come to spread corruption
I see no point in interruption."
PESTILENCE, n. Any corruption of the flesh unexplained by the neighbor's sin.