Poem for the Lost Soldiers

Why are you taking our young
from the water, the hills and the air?
Who are you, men of guns
and short eyes, who worship ends
who take from trees and moon?
Who break a kiss, a son, a daughter
in the midst of leap and song?
Who called you to unleash
rage, false wisdom and rot?
How did you come to believe love
is just another toss in the breeze
a roll, a simple new face in the crowd
easily picked and tossed to the next?
Why do you rinse in other people’s tears?
Who are you in the darkness?
What do you salute in the morning?
Children turn cold in your hands?
When will I never have to ask?