Young men - why Us?

In the darkest realm where battles rage,
Young men tread on history's stage.
They march with courage, hearts afire,
For causes they may not desire.

The drums of war resound so loud,
As they advance through a smoke-filled shroud.
Their steps are swift, their spirits high,
With dreams of victory in their eye.

But who are they, these young and brave?
Who march to meet an early grave?
They're sons of fathers, brothers, friends,
Whose lives on war's altar now depend.

For older men with beliefs so strong,
Convince the youth that they belong,
In conflicts fueled by pride and might,
While shadows creep into the night.

They're led by generals, wise and grand,
With maps and plans drawn in their hand.
They send them forth to fight and bleed,
To satisfy their own selfish greed.

In fields of chaos, swords clash and ring,
As echoes of battle through ages sing.
Young men fall, their dreams undone,
Their lives extinguished by the setting sun.

Their blood seeps deep into the ground,
While elder minds maintain their sound.
They speak of honor, glory, and fame,
But it's the youth who bear the pain.

Oh, how tragic this timeless tale,
Of young men caught in war's cruel hail.
Their sacrifice, a bitter cost,
For older men to count and boast.

Yet, in the ashes of this strife,
We must remember, in our life,
To question the beliefs we're told,
And the bravery that we behold.

For youth should not be led astray,
By older men who lead the fray.
Let's strive for peace, a better way,
Where young and old can safely stay.