What is abstract imagery?

Is it when I drown in the dark depths of the ocean of grief?

Or when the frolicking waves dance with my ecstasy?

Do I let my emotions ebb and flow like the tides?

Can the tsunami of rage appease my rising fury?

Or is it just my fantasy?

Do the wilted sunflowers mimic my sorrow?

Does the peeling yellow paint on the dilapidated wall reflect my depression?

Can the golden sunlight feel like happiness and joy?

How does the yellow spotlight highlight my creative expression?

A pale today awaits a brighter tomorrow.

The blood dripping from the knife felt like my shivering insides.

Just yesterday I held a red rose fragrant with love.

What coloured the clear water pink? Was it anger or rage?

The crimson of the setting sun, my passion

Dried up clotted blood my never ending regret.