What right have we? (those who do not know)
How dare you bare your heart,
what right have you to speak of love?
you who maim and kill and blind.
You who take mothers from children,
and children from fathers.
What right have you?
be-medalled as you are,
your trigger finger
and tattooed scar.
You lay there draped in patterned flags,
neatly dressed, arms folded, crossed,
limbs scrubbed bone white clean,
whilst those you killed lay strewn, obscene.
What right has she to kiss your face,
to clutch one final cold embrace?
Here comes the ground to swallow you,
the horned and winged await your soul.
The volleyed shots to honour you.
Yet not one word can them console.