Hollow Branches - Let No One Be Buried Tame

I come for the ones we forgot to name The ones left in gutters, in fields, in flame The unclaimed wrists, the unsung dead Who haunt the places we never tread I bring no book, no church, no law Just bone and moss and open jaw I do not kneel—I dig, I burn I call them back through ash and fern Let this be the rite they were denied Let this be the wail we never cried Let this be the start of tearing down Every fence that kept them bound I found them where the city forgets Where no one wept, and no rites were read Their names devoured by concrete rot Their bones still waiting to be sought A crow stood vigil on rusted stone And whispered, “They died unloved, alone.” So I knelt down with bark-stained hands And offered them back to the breathing land Let no one be buried tame Let earth reclaim their stolen names Let vines uproot the walls they knew And grief return in feral truth No cradle, no dirt to sleep Just echoes buried under grief So I carved their stories into bark And fed the soil with what was dark I let the nettles sting my skin To bleed the garden back within To tear the taming from my chest And lay the dead in roots to rest I cracked my ribs and poured in moss Sang their names in guttural loss Built a pyre of thorn and bone Lit with every pain I own Ashes speak in broken breath: “You mourn us wild, you mourn us best” Their spirits danced through wind and flame And whispered, “Now you’re not the same.” Let no one be buried tame Let sorrow scream and love inflame Uncage the grief they made you chain And plant it deep like sovereign rain May the worms know what the world refused May the roots rise from all we lose And if I die unloved, unnamed… Let the forest take me WILD AND UNTAMED…