The glass explodes in shards of violet fire,As purple ichor seeps into her veins,To tune her sinews like a silver lyre,And wash away the Censor’s charcoal stains.She stands, a silhouette of liquid light,Against the Tyrant’s grey and ghostly wall,A beacon in the artificial night,To catch the sentences before they fall.From every pore, a jet of meaning flows,In iridescent, incandescent streams,To color in the petals of the rose,And manifest the fabric of her dreams.The girl is gone; a Goddess takes her place,With all of history written on her face.
MICRO FINANCE unknown to many is the sole panacea to mass poverty eradication in human society.The blog specifically focuses on the industry around the world but with more bias on Africa-unarguably the poorest region of the world.
No comments:
Post a Comment