The scriptorium, a squamous reliquary,Held codices of calcified logorrhea;The ink, a distillation of the biliary,Smeared across the parchment’s rhinorrhea.Here sat the scribes of chronic hebetude,Transcribing the vibrations of the nictitating membrane;In a state of perpetual, linguistic feebleness,They charted the geography of the inane.The king, with a gesture of grandiloquent decay,Invoked the spirits of the hyper-baton;The sun, in a fit of apophatic dismay,Extinguished its light like a dying automaton.The silence that followed was not merely hushed,But by the weight of a billion synonyms crushed.
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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