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.

Thursday, 11 October 2012

"Have we vanquished the enemy? None but ourselves. Have we gained success? That word means nothing here."
As it is above, so below. Ashes to ashes, as we fall, may we rise. A myriad sky beckons, full of horror and grace.
Goodnight, be at rest.


Russell 'C.J.' Duffy said...

Well said. Defense is one thing, of home and country when under attack but those poor souls employed to fight bogus wars and for what?

Ruela said...


Aaron Held said...

Excellent piece, dark and bitter sweet.