After the boy had taken a walk
with his dear - deceased - grandmother,
his feet were somehow led to a small, ancient church,
which was giving quite an imposing grandeur.
Partially sunken in the morass of the marshland
all foggy and chronically overcast ...-
the ancient house was waiting.
The haunted house lies waiting.
Clockwise the stone flight is spiralling upwards,
but soon the passage becomes too small to get on ...-
even though the boy's now crawling.
Anxiously he attempts to restrain,
but his way back seems to be obstructed:
Gelatinous hearts are lined-up along the walls,
each of them inseminated - or defiled - by a black tadpole.
A stone lion promises to be the boy's rescue ...-
but only, if he eventually ... stops running away ... from him ...
