Inside the hall, the phantoms feast on air,On memories of taste and scents of old;The tapestries are woven of despair,In patterns that the weary eye behold.The king is served a wine of liquid night,In chalices carved from a single bone;The shadows dance in the flickering light,And whisper secrets to the heart alone.He eats the bread of silence and of stone,And drinks the draft of deep forgetfulness;He sits upon a cold, obsidian throne,In a kingdom of magnificent distress.The journey has begun, the die is cast,Into the maw of the eternal past.
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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