Leave me for mulch -
Forlorn to feverish growth
It's fatal. It's decomposition.  
Vindictive, I've let it all surmise
In sermons scripted as
Tarnished seedlings.
Left it to grow in the damp
Pits of desolate scorn -
Infected throughout my stems
I pray to dissolve

Don't mourn.
Don't mourn.
Don't mourn.