The monster’s maw, a chasm of decay,Revealed a hoard of vials, crystalline,Where liquid starlight in its slumber lay,Distilled from nebulae and breath divine.Each phial held a memory of a worldBefore the advent of the entropic rust,Ere galaxies were into darkness hurledAnd empires crumbled into stygian dust.He grasped a flask of iridescent hue—The Panacea of the Primal Will—As shadows of the antediluvian crewBegan to gather, ominous and still.The glass pulsed with a low, thrumming heat,A rhythm like a dying universe’s beat.
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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