Hate of few: fought by many

Hate of few: fought by many,
Man destroying man,
Manipulating horror causing death,
An army of flesh reduced,

Now leaves rank upon rank of white crosses.

A red more precious than rubies,
though wasted for lesser prizes,
is encrusted on the remnants of
kindred killed by kindred.

Living under torturous hardships
devised by ministers,
figureheads, heroes of the people;
murderers of soldiers.

Armies dead, killed fighting for the comfort of their killers.

[It is remembrance Sunday (today) and following the theme of remembering,
the poem above is one I remember from a school magazine - written by one of our classmates, although I don't think he was in my year.
I have written it out here from memory, so may have got bits wrong.
Unfortunately I do not remember the author's name, and my attempts to find it on the web got nowhere.
The author may not have thought it worth keeping around into their adulthood,
but I have always loved it.
If anyone knows the author name maybe you could leave a comment?
Thank you.]