The warrior is useless

Stillness, akin to time immemorial,
A character of the past, a deplorable,
Rusted gun, rusted resistance,
Not alive, just obligatory existence.

A fever-dream, mine alone,
Of honor and glory, I no longer hone;
Tempted to employ full degradation,
I'm filled with self-pity and frustration.

But I still stand ready, but not at my prime,
This soldier is venerated, this man is benign;
If this warrior is useless, this empty suit still has a stance,
If called upon by God or country, I will still advance!