The Redactor lunges with his leaden blade,To scrape the vibrant violet from the air,To cast the world back into uniform shade,And trap the Goddess in a void-black snare.But every stroke of his erasing hand,Is met by flourishes of cursive gold,That bloom like wildflowers across the land,And tell the stories that were never told.The battle is a dance of "Yes" and "No,"Of vibrant pigment versus vacant grey,As tidal waves of lexicon and glow,Wash the Redactor’s iron laws away.The Censor’s quill is snapped by a decree,That every word must be, forever, free.
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.
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