The fruit of my spoils sings
Drawing me ever near
A siren on land reaching its hand to
Take my by the
Throat
My heart flutters at the idea
Longing to come a part
To take what is to wither
Wallow in toxic rot
We would walk on wilted wishes
And gaze at dying stars
All will end in dust
I’m a queen of broken hearts
Jan 29
Jan 29, 2026 at 9:11 PM UTC
The fruit of my spoils sings
Drawing me ever near
A siren on land reaching its hand to
Take my by the
Throat
My heart flutters at the idea
Longing to come a part
To take what is to wither
Wallow in toxic rot
We would walk on wilted wishes
And gaze at dying stars
All will end in dust
I’m a queen of broken hearts