Festival by Grim Father

Mimes, in the form of God on high,
Mutter and mumble low,
And hither and thither fly—
Mere puppets they, who come and go
At bidding of vast formless things
That shift the scenery to and fro,
Flapping from out their Condor wings
Invisible Wo!

- Poe

O carne vale!
What is it that buries itself before it is dead?

- Ligotti

Fantasy Dungeon Synth from the forests of the Pacific North West.

"Like spooky video game music, but weirder."

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