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.
6 comments:
Touche, my good man, touche!
its good to be diffrent...
and one should never crawl for anyone other than one's self
Hear! Hear! I think it'd be fun, to meet you on the path...
Nice:))
Splendid!
I like to HEAR Dissenting VOICES !
I love to be different but but equall between the others...
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