Vanilla Tonic By Khabazela Mkhize With art we create this life. No complaining Rise above all tasteful expectation How is it to grow old? No disturbance From the envious breath of death Only time pon time of smiles Cries and all A seed always blows onto itself Till all is silent and wisely grey Listening loudly as youth its careless truth Suicidaly flaunt A truth of passion with turbulence Of life measured only on jollity Its swig is an icy experience Sour sweet Pure sun cracking and blazing At the enchanting crux of the rebel sculp. With art we create this life Write the ever missing stories Of growth and lovable pain. No believing Have faith that only your will be done And undone How easy it is to grow Unkindled By fear of life and her death Only time pon time spent mulling On the cries Smiles and all A tree always runs rushing Till all is gold and freshly ray Hugging loosely as old age its quick truth Arrogantly explains A forgotten truth of addiction Without regret Of life lived by its sudden moments Its sip is a hot dream Sweet with sourness Pure beauty cracking and blazing At the captured heart of the matured soul. With art we create this life Drink from our own fountains Free the clogging mind.