You inspired me

I do not fear the motion of my feet.
Though every step be toward the final bourn,
I see no path to orderly retreat.

The energy assigned in brief to me
No art preserves, no science can reform.
And so I boldly choose what is to be

The range and purpose of my tiny mete.
I will not, while I can, myself pre-mourn,
But rage, rage against the rising of the heat.