She worked day and night,
Using all her might.
She worked the colours,
and used them by numbers.
Red, orange, purple and yellow,
there was nothing that was mellow.
The brush danced over the canvas,
as she painted away with purpose.
The world was being torn out there,
by a war that tore people apart.
She painted away with determination,
Her mind set on life without strife.
At the stroke of midnight,
she stood before finished art.
Her life’s work was now out there,
To be judged and to be felt.
She captured the colours and glory,
of a life unhindered by strife.
People came from near and far
to see her elegant work of art.