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Sacha Sacket

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Sacha Sacket

Breed

I came upon that old desire
But only found my Ides of March
Even the Great London Fire
Needed just a little spark

And I grew hard pressed to remember
How I fell under that spell
It only took one cold November
To break my March of eighteen twelve

I can't learn
I can't breathe
I just burn
I don't breed

It's funny how I never tire
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Of stepping on the water's edge
To slowly let some flesh on fire
Turn into my avalanche

I'm like some Hindenburg disaster
There's only death left in this wake
There's nothing left to hold you after
You wonder why you're wide awake

I can't learn
I can't sleep
I just burn
I don't breed