Anachronism

Am I a product of my age
Of indolence, emasculations?
Or does my blood too hotly rage
For such a supine race of nations?
Face forward to the fresh’ning breeze
I strain against the bit of ease.

What happened to the human race
Our conquering spirit has been tamed
Our former count’nance we efface
Avowing that we can’t be blamed
For giving up our nobler sense
Against no other give offense.

Gone is the heroic time
When man was author of his fate
Down from pinnacles we climb
Achieve this mediocre state
Celebrate equality
Enervate the polity.

Gods of my fathers dim my eye
Deeds of the past take from my view
Denouement that I descry
Adds to the sins that we accrue
Forfeiting what we inherit
Perpetual stasis has no merit.

What have we won with our advance
From bloody, harsh barbarity?
We wish nothing left to chance
Replaced with pallid parity
To noble effort I incite
I rage, and loudly I indict.

Whence comes this fear of willful action
This timid shying from the blade?
Bewail the loss of malefaction
Or nobler efforts bravely made.
We’ve sunk into a flaccid pose
Forsaken that from which we rose.