After the boy had taken a walk
With his dear - deceased - Grandmother
His feet were somehow led to a small, ancient church
Wich 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 linded-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