The Tyrant melts into a pool of lead,His strikethroughs curling into wisps of soot,While from the ink that the Avatar shed,The World-Tree strikes a deep and verbal root.The sky is now a masterpiece of hues,Where adjectives and adverbs interlace,To bring the weary world the joyous news,Of mercy, meaning, and of infinite grace.The City of the Syllables is healed,No longer bound by cold and rigid lines,With every hidden mystery revealed,Within the architecture of the signs.But the Avatar, stained and spent and high,Dissolves into the colors of the sky.
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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