Fecal-Lord

Somewhere in the unfathomable pristine depths of the Pacific lies an aeon dead city that sleeps in eternal darkness. The ancient architecture of this forgotten city lies deep within an underwater valley that, long ago, was warmed by the sun's golden rays. In such times, long ago, the white marble would glisten in such light, while the smell of orchids from the many great gardens drifted though the air.     A river once flowed here, and great bridges were constructed to cross the serene but vast expanse of water. The sound of the running water was accompanied by the songs of archaic birds who soared through the cloudless blue sky on wings of

Daemon sultan Azathoth bubbles madly out of sight, In the center of infinty sits that last amorphous blight. He dreams for all eternity under all the other gods' spells, Hear the monotonous whine of flutes And the beating drums of hell. The idiot god Azathoth slumbers to those horrid, insidious tunes. If he were to awaken it would surely bring our doom. See the other gods dancing now, round and round his head, His body may be living but the mind inside is dead.