I'll Make Your Past Regret It's Future

Smoke clouds the vision as silent figures move through the day
into the night they are forever vigilant thinking that, just maybe,
they can make this war actually mean something.
A soldier holds his hands in prayer as another shoots
at enemies that have been created, not born.
What is freedom from oppression when another country,
one that is not better than the next despite popular belief,
forces its politics and ideas upon the nation that they have dubbed
in need of saving?
How dare us.
A president who does not deserve to lead, fighting the fight
that does not exist, shoving a burning passion for a war
that is not a war.
Burning flames consume the country, bombs and firearms,
emotions and the heat of the cries of the fallen that will never leave.
Blood on our hands we cry for justice for our men to come home,
but we are the ones who sent them there to "save".
Humanity cannot save itself and we must rely on what is bigger than us,
but who recognizes that humans are not the end all be all?
How dare us.
Do we deserve the freedom that we were born into,
the nation that sees suffering far less than all the rest?
Look into the eyes of a fallen soldiers mother and search into the pain
for a reason for the lives of soldiers falling for the demise of a nation
that we will never be able to fix.
How dare us.