A Better Way

Each one of us is born, does die;
At both events, our loved ones cry.
In the remaining time between,
The bounties of this earth we glean.

But I must query all, this day
To answer this, if someone may;
Whose duty is it to decide
How long, we on this earth reside?

Who sends the soldier off to kill,
To take a life against its will.
Who doles out medicines and care
When bodies fall in disrepair.

Who, with a fetus does away,
As death to comatose does stay.
Who, great sums spend on sick and old
When strong and healthy suffer cold.

As lack of food a child does kill
Who, for the dying pays on still.
The answer, I don't feign to know,
And so my search must onward go.

But this I'll dare to state today;
There ought to be a better way!