Masterpiece of Madness

She was his muse
his living work of art
upon which he painted
blooming bruises
of nightmare-flavored blossoms.
He painted her colorful;
blues and blacks,
yellows and greens,
adding a dash of crimson here
a ribbon of red there
whenever it suited his mood.
He sculpted her soft body,
ruthlessly reworking
its natural contours,
and carved her spirit
until she became
a broken mannequin;
a canvas for his twisted soul,
Masterpiece of Madness