The Abstract Art Gallery
A writing gallery created by writers from around the world. From poetry to song lyrics, from essays to entire novels and short stories.
…is because, I know
You and I know now.
I want to write you
Till I am alive.
My lady love!
It is because,
I have no time to live,
In the midst of others.
It is because,
Before I grow too old.
Before I turn into ashes,
I want to write in you,
The pages of my love,
The emotions of my blood,
Which is so inseparable,
So much irresistible.
Oh! My lady of life,
If only I could write,
I would write my life for…
By Abhimanyu Kumar S
…sits in silence,
breathing in the
lavender night sky.
When he closes his eyes,
he sees periwinkle galaxies
so alluring that he weeps;
he desires to soar through the stars,
wistfully dancing through their dust,
allowing the gentle soprano of the vacuumed silence to take lead.
He’d leap through asteroid belts,
leaving footprints in the heavens,
moving through the suspended rocks as if he’s caught in a riptide.
What a magnificent time he would have.
His eyes snap open;
back to reality, he has no choice
but to gaze up at the sky
and ponder what-ifs and wilted …
By Vincent Midolo
…social media superstar going viral against anti-social criminals fighting to save the day she gets about a million views on her own youtube channel by never giving herself up always being there fighting for humanity’s freedom over land air and sea against the new world order and their terrifying treats with determination to rule the world
It was Friday and MidKnight Girl glides into a certain doom in which she found herself trapped by four men who are ogres and each one takes one corner as they close in on her that’s where dreams definitely come true for them and…
By Casper Greenlane
tip-toe, in the dark of the night, to the grave of all of my sorrows.
Falling to my knees upon the frozen ground, I sobbed in silence.
My body convulsed with need to shed itself of the misery and distress that my heart and mind had endured.
Stubborn to the end, I lay prone upon the grave, digging my fingers into the earth beneath me.
I clenched fistfuls of the rich dirt and held it to my chest, as if I could somehow become a part of it, absorb it into my flesh.
My soul ached with the weight of
By L.E.
…a rippling stream
The sky was clear blue
With a cool, gentle breeze
We drifted along blissfully
In enchanted ease
I felt the air caress my face
And cuddled against you
In your warm embrace
The trees on the banks
So lush and green
Provided a tranquil backdrop
One, not too often seen
Mountains loomed far in the distance
Their shoulders wrapped in snow
A lone deer from the water's edge
Quickly receded into the shadow
I thought how lovely this vision was
And wished it would not end
But we struck a rock, quite suddenly
As the stream took…
By Sharon Cunningham
Something I wrote when I was struggling with depression and anxiety, it's a darker piece if the meaning of it is clear.
————-
She's tired,
She's always tired,
Somehow no one sees,
The battle inside her head,
She needs time but she can't control it,
Slowly it feels like her soul is slipping through the cracks and her mind is turning to ash,
Something so simple, so beautiful,
Yet her mind cannot find peace to except it,
Something her soul can't control and her mind can't expell,
It's clutches grab at her heart slowly turning it to black,
She's tired,
She's always so tired,
Looking for a way to slip away,
To slip from the darkness around her heart,
Because she can't take it anymore,
She's tired,
She's always so tired.
…whole week feels like a dream,
Like I'm stuck in some waking dream,
So many emotions and so many chances,
A fantasy of futures,
Many footsteps I've walked,
Along path walked at night,
Watching monsters run in the dark,
Seeing true colors shine through cracks in their masks,
Hollow crown sits tilted on their head,
Maybe now they'll see,
A dark path is a teaching path,
This week feels like a drug,
I'm high on hopes,
Unsure if I'll make it in this world,
Drowning in my head trying to escape the pain,
Fantasy trees ripe with fruit all right…
By Marina Vos
Read More…friends have nicknamed me Houdini.
I have the uncanny ability to make lovers disappear without a trace
With nothing but magic words and the ripping of a sheet.
They dematerialize into nothing but molecules and isotopes
And are swept up in the unforgiving wind produced when I utter the words:
“I can’t do this anymore.”
My magic is most proficient when my mind starts playing tricks on me.
It produces false pretenses, and speaks stories of treason,
Giving me the sign that the show is about to begin.
“Would anyone from the crowd like to…
By Vincent Midolo
…complain
as I fall behind
picking wild flowers
but later
you’ll be the first
to offer a vase
We’ll drink
the last of the apple wine
and together cook a feast
of what little we find
or maybe
we’ll make a run
to the local store
in search of an onion
or another ingredient
lately unaccounted for
then I’ll laugh
as you tally
incorrect change and complain
as I fall…
By Eve Paradise
…he touches is golden
Every song he sings beholden
His fingertips touch the guitar strings
And shower his audience with sparkling rings
The heavens rejoice at his gentle tone
My heart races and I'm no longer alone
He gazes at the crowd enveloping me in his magic spell
Whether he really sees it's me I cannot tell
His stories speak to one deep within me
And his lullaby softly rocks me like a baby
No magic can compare to this
As he sweeps his listeners away in bliss
No magic can compare to…
By JK Forever
