I think Let Lie falls within the boundaries of "Art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable." It's a hard piece to provide critique on, just because I think it knows what it wants to be from the get go, and delivers on it at every step of the way. Technically it's a romantic horror, I believe, but to me it feels more like a tragic exploration of how isolating depression can be. It starts like a dull throb in the back of your head and spreads out until it permeates every aspect of your life, rewrites who you are, your experiences, your relationships. Maybe there's sadness, sure, but more than anything there's just apathy. 

and Let Lie explores this all through heavy subtext, metaphor, and poetry, illustrated with dim, oppressive lines, lit by a soft warm glow that never quite reaches you. The music is never out of place, and the overall artistic direction is so airtight you could probably face the vacuum of space in it. 

My only real problem, (and again much of this VN is set up to guide the reader to draw the correct conclusions rather than explicitly state any of them, so I may not even be right) is that I think the game treats its protagonist with resentment, where I think it should show sympathy. Aaron isn't a saint, and he's definitely made mistakes. He's done the right thing for the wrong reason, and been burned for it. But I don't believe he's fundamentally broken, or "unfixable." The game questions if robots can feel love, and subsequently compares people with mental illness to robots. Not in a callous way, but in an understanding that this is something that a lot of people with this type of depression struggle with. But the robot character we see is also full of life, and compassion, and whether or not his love is "real," there was someone in Aaron for him to fall in love with, and I believe that he is very much real.