Humanity, see what I see:
A golden horizon,
Sky blazing with rays of gold,
Golden grass,
Golden trees,
Golden cites,
Golden people,
None gilded.
A future for all.
A future together.

There is a greater call
One above perceived duty,
above one's material purpose.
Only the few can not hear it,
those who have lost the way.

This call has power:
run faster, strike truer, see clearer
It bestows these gifts
to serve those who would serve others;
The Humanitarian Call

Shall I fall victim to that ceaseless void?
Whose to say?
Myself, peers, or a larger population?

What is a Writer?
Is it someone who puts words on paper
with honesty and nobelity?
Or is it someone who sees a truth in injustice,
a dream deferred?
Perhaps a writer is someone
who wishes wisdom upon the world
to exploit their own for the purpose of others?
What is a Writer?