Moment of weakness

God, sitting at His desk
Was looking at the marks
Left by the nails in the
Palms of His hands.
Ruminating. Not happy.
His wonderful, Utopian project
Turning to shambles,
The fat pigs  in purple robes
Being more ridiculous
Every day. Sumptuous
Dining and living
As if the river of honey
Never ceases to flow.
He was toying
With His mail opener,
A dagger of tempered steel
Fine sharp edge.
Tempered steel, vein.
Tempered steel, vein.
''But, no'', He reflected
''I will not give them
The same pleasure again'',
Said  as  He looked
At the chart left
By the Soothsayer -
Mars and Venus
Would soon be aligned
In such as way
 As rarely seen, more
Like in a million years.
His chance maybe to
Contact Lady Fair and,
On neutral grounds
Meet and  possibly cheat.