From out the crevice of a poisoned dream,The scorpion emerges, sleek and black;Its carapace reflects a baleful gleam,With starlight dripping from its armored back.It guards the portal to the inner deep,Where transformation’s bitter work is done;Where old identities are put to sleep,Before the rising of the midnight sun.The sting is not of death, but of a birth,A piercing of the ego’s heavy skin;To find the hidden furnace of the earth,That burns away the residue of sin.He welcomes now the agonizing kiss,And falls into the velvet-lined abyss.
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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