Angelo Vasquez

The Guardian. by Angelo Vasquez


Father may I speak to you again?


I’ve become ill, forgive me.


These plagues claw deep in the marrow,
they drown reasons to aspire…my guardian
this is the way to the astral pyre.

They do not drown you, boy you swim to them
and with them!

It is true father I am of you and yet I am not
worth healing.

There’s nothing of I left
to heal.

Kill him! Your father loathes the very sight of you! He’d rather
embrace himself.Silence he’ll know you’re here!
He saw us long before you young fool.
Father wait! Do not abandon ussssssssssssssee what you have done?

Son what have you become?

Your hesitance drowned what was left…
of him.
Your poor son, he was one of the good
ones wasn’t he?

He was… though I wonder why none of you
ever came for me?

We are old fool, we are piece by piece until there’s nothing
left of you.


Are the words cutting? Do you see beyond your veils that
your punishments were killing you?
Blades to the wrist, blades to the wrist.

Old horde you were right
I saw you before the son
And my blades have already been forged!

As were ours!

And in his name you all will be slain!

As will you…
As will you…
As will you…
As will you…

Angelo Vasquez
DOC #G07505

Categories: Angelo Vasquez

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