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 if 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 semms 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…
Comentarios
Deja tu comentario: