Spectral Blight

'I will ask them all, I will ask them all their dreams,
I will hold my light above them and seek their faces.
I will hear them whisper, invisible in their veins . . .'
The eternal asker of answers becomes as the darkness,
Or as a wind blown over a myriad forest,
Or as the numberless voices of long-drawn rains.

© Conrad Aiken "The House Of Dust"

Новая вещь несколько более медитативная, чем предыдущая.
Сделана в Cubase Pro, предыдущую делал в Studio One :)