You shame those aching for peace?
Yet no shame 

sending your children to death, sending others’ children to their death?
Do you look your own children in the eye and say I love you when you are sending to death fathers in lands far away that you’ve never shared bread with? 
Do you make love to your wife? Each thrust echoing the strike of a bomb, perhaps falling on young lovers. An orgasm of blood at your behest.
Leading children to death from behind your secure walls is not noble. Is not courageous. 
You shame those who say no to death? Perhaps one dark night when you look down at your bloodstained hands you may feel the shame of murder. 
Perhaps.