Within a hollowed crag, a clockwork god,Turns gears of brass and cylinders of lead;It measures out the path that saints have trod,And counts the respirations of the dead.Its heart is a ticking ruby, large and bright,Its eyes are lenses of polished tourmaline;It processes the photons of the light,To fuel the functions of the vast machine.It asks the wanderer: "What is the weight,Of a single soul against the ticking gears?"The alchemist ignores the bait of fate,And answers only with his silent tears.The god of cogs continues with its toil,Anointed by a stream of ancient oil.
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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