She is a beautiful soul,
The way her mind works,
The way her eyes longed for beauty in others.
And the way her hands moved to paint her dreams.
She gave birth to her passion,
And named it Art.
She puts her heart out creating her Art,
She created Life.
Her Paintings would speak to you,
As if they were made to make you feel in the impossibilities.
She didn’t care about being in love,
She is Love itself.
She is free and wild.
She is like a Beautiful Summer Butterfly,
She was made to fly,
As people tries to hold her down.
She is a curious soul,
Her life was like a puzzle,
She painted her missing pieces,
As she filled her missing part.
Made herself complete.
She was made like an Art,
She was Art itself.