Where O Grave is Thy Victory?

I suppose it must be me
Nobody else gets choked by it
But then, graves and death
Have lost the power to scare

Can't get them to understand
I don't want another Arlington
With pristine paths and walkways
Or lawns with Regency stripes

The racket compounds the felony
With strimmers fore and mowers aft
Like a bunch of demented hornets
Drowning my peace in formic acid

Where are the wild flowers now?
And the butterflies, bees and birds?
The dead don't sit in judgment
Discussing the state of their abode

Leave it alone! Let it grow!
Let nature work its magic
To the brambles and briars - Welcome!
Don't lose the plot. Take it over!