In the gallery of whispers and vibrant hues,
Where silence speaks and colors fuse,
A realm unfolds of abstract dreams,
Where nothing is quite as it seems.

Sculptures rise with a gentle grace,
Carving stories in empty space,
Each piece a fragment of the soul,
A quest for meaning, a quest for whole.

Through strokes of paint and digital streams,
The artists weave their silent screams,
Questioning norms, defying time,
In rhythmic patterns, in silent rhyme.

Oh, contemporary art, a mirror’s gaze,
Reflecting life in myriad ways,
Your beauty lies in the unknown,
In whispers heard, yet never shown.