A chamber carved of roaring, orange heat,Invites the soul to shed its final veil;The floor is cinders to his naked feet,The air a furnace where the senses fail.The salamanders dance in ribbons red,Consuming all that is not purely bright;They feast upon the memories of the dead,To fuel the lanterns of the inner light.He walks into the heart of the pyre’s roar,Until his very shadow turns to ash;He exits through the incandescent door,Beyond the stinging of the solar lash.The gold is tempered and the blade is keen,The spirit’s fire is holy and serene.
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