Then looms a spire of pure, prismatic light,A citadel of quintessence and fire,Whose parapets challenge the limit of sight,And mock the vanity of human desire.Its walls are built of syllogisms and dreams,Its moats are filled with liquid mercury;A hundred fountains spout their silver streams,In defiance of all known geometry.The gates are guarded by a Sphinx of brass,Whose riddles are the echoes of the void;None but the purified of spirit pass,Lest their fragile egos be utterly destroyed.The thaumaturge approaches with a steady gait,To knock upon the iron doors of fate.
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