Pandimensional Warriors

The warriors had volunteered to die.
It was their right to remove the attacker.
To feel hate,fear,and murderous rage.
To destroy without compromise,
and die when it was over.
The anger and apprehension of the planned
destruction,would live on as stories
and glory.
They would be destroyed and born again.
As is meant to be.
They never added the bad things to their sacred
geometry.
They willingly died like killer bees.
They were always the winning side.
Death immortalized and born again
like something crowned
to mothers who knew the stories but rarely
the soul,that was their sons.
Good people,real people.
Who would destroy worlds and kill billions
in the name of love when attacked.
Try to comprehend.
The ugly shortcomings of the race of man
in comparison.
In such matters as war,and its meaning
Mankind is just a buzzing of insects
not prepared to die.
At least not for love.