Standing amidst the stench
Of the one thousand dead men
That he had heaped on the bloody ground
The warrior, clad in his unyielding armor
And brandishing a razor sharp sword,
Thumped his chest and laughed at the world.
Standing amidst the stench
Of the one thousand dead men
That he had heaped on the bloody ground
The warrior, clad in his unyielding armor
And brandishing a razor sharp sword,
Thumped his chest and laughed at the world.
Shimanga is a rusty old town in the middle of nowhere. In fact, it would have become a ghost town had it not been for the iron ore deposits next to it. Thanks to this, a relatively small industry was thriving in this place for almost hundred and twenty years.
The ‘Trishool’ steel factory was the only god known to the thousands of laborers who lived in that place. There were hardly a handful people who had business apart from the factory.
I came running onto the platform,
To embark on a magical journey
Through moving mountains, over rivers;
Through dark tunnels and black forests.