sing choir, sing
bellow the melodies
of what's to come
christen my soul
unloved, unnurtured
by birthright
no ceremony's necessary
for the burial of a nobody;
try weep and nothing hear
for none can cry 
for through death the unloved finds
bliss and harmony
love and ceremony.
It is a marvel,
one to celebrate,
so, do not miss the unnurtured
as his place has now been found.