You cannot see my wings and my true visage would cause sorrow; In my hands I hold the key that would destroy all your tomorrows. I stand nearby the President; I’m at his beck and call. In Life I’m a nonentity, in Death, the Lord of all. Some think of me as “friend”; my existence your protection. In Truth I’m just the agent of your mutual destruction. I am but one of many who carry this dread weight; the codes for Armageddon that may spell your planet’s fate. As I keep my silent vigil, the clock ticks towards midnight. Ignorance and arrogance define your awful plight I am the fearful Seraphim at the gate of Paradise; That place from which you were expelled and cannot enter twice.
( The man who carries the nuclear football re-imagined here as the Angel of Death)