He climbs the ridges of a silver height,Where oxygen is thin as a phantom’s breath;The landscape is a glare of blinding white,The color of a clean and noble death.Here, frost-giants forge the armor of the wind,On anvils made of pressurized despair;By elemental furnaces they sinned,And cast their frozen shadows through the air.His boots go crunching through the diamond crust,Of snows that fell before the birth of man;He shakes away the garnets and the dust,To view the vista of the cosmic plan.The peaks are teeth that bite the belly of night,In a grimace of sublime and lonely might.
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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