The Titan of the Ebony Isles

Laid bare far beyond civilizations glare, sank the ever-defiled bowels of a forgotten lair. Nameless, voiceless and visually uncertain, a silhouette hidden behind an ebony curtain, as though it itself is unsure to pertain any what description of its own existential pain. It rots, an inexorable stench permeates the air. Behold the Titan whose size boasts beyond compare. Clouds and mists of fetid odor, scurry across the dark skies and forever over. A haunted smell, wrought from a carcass from hell, where the vengeful dead stubbornly dwell. Abandoned beyond those ebony mountains, whose dying blood flows forth from damnable fountains. Joining oceans of red, always starved but always fed, from the Titan who lies dying upon his ebony deathbed.