There, in a corner of the Absolute,He finds the Tyrant’s cramped and crooked mark,A tiny, black, and bitter-tasting fruit,That sucks the marrow from the holy spark.The Footnote is a parasite of "Wait,"A leech upon the "Now" and "Evermore,"A jagged hook within the mouth of Fate,That drags the spirit to the dusty floor.It tries to weave a cage of rigid rules,Around the Scholar’s fluid, beating heart,To turn the wise into the pedigreed fools,And tear the fabric of the soul apart.But with a stylus made of "Honest Doubt,"The Scholar seeks to cut the cancer out.
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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