The Battle Of Battles
One of the greatest threats known to man, a threat which tries to push the root of a man out of the soil, a threat which some calls "a state of the mind, "while others sees as a disease that pronounce it's self when infected. For so long we have try to fight, for so long we have try to conquer, for so long we have been in intense battle with it but still the winner is yet to be determined Poverty, some say it's a state of mind and others sees it as lack but no matter how hard we try to coat it with words, the mention of it name brings terror to the ear. My warriors cry out for help, their shout is all about to be redeemed, their prayers are to be saved but still they go around looking for the enemy who rest in his doom Take your net I say to them, get your cutlass and hoe I preach but their reply is like a tasteful aroma to the nose of that which seek their defeat. The beast has been awaken, seeking to quench it thirst and my warriors are ignorant about its threat...