The Dark Angels are a come and go crew. They create then disappear like street art. Their works exist in fragments, particles that float, dust motes that spin before the wind that blows them to faraway places. They are individuals that work as one. Deep as oceans, as impenetrable as the night. Art urchins and poets, they dissolve before they form. They are the Dark Angels, they are discharge. They are a bloody mouthful.

Friday 22 April 2011

lıʇun

You only ever hold on
When I'm not there





SAID THE KEY TO THE LOCK

2 comments:

Shadow Lor said...

I really meant for this to be less of a joke than it came across as ^_^" silly me lol.

Ruela said...

yeahhh!