Gazlam Motaung Poet Terza Rima

Death Shall Not Stop Me Drinking Hard and Partying

I raise my glass against the creeping night,
And laugh at shadows clawing at my flame;
Let death come slow or fast-I hold my light.

For what is life if lived without a claim 
To fire, music, madness, reckless cheer?
A sober world is sober than it's shame

So let the cautious tremble, clutching fear;
I'll dance where fear runs red as mortal blood,
And drown the ticking silence in jeer.

Let saints preach duty, labour, sweat, and mud-
Their sermons wilt beneath the club's loud roar; 
I choose the storm,the glitter and the flood.

Though bones may crack and lungs may breathe no more,
My name will rise from every emptied cup-
A toast to nights that burned my spirits raw.

And when the final reckoning adds up,
Let death itself bow down before my spree;
I lived unchained, and never once looked up

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