I was buried in Mount Savalan—
With eyes wide open, sealed in a coffin;
Within the pitch black coffin, laid I— beneath the bright white shroud, stood you.
I was buried in Mount Savalan—
The caves hold their breath in a prayer of stone; The hushed mist, a holy incense;
The lake, a mirror for none but the skies, reflecting he who never forgets.
I was buried in Mount Savalan—
The shepherds carry the summit in their stride, moving like shadows across the scree;
Their songs, the salt of the earth, their hands, gnarled roots of the slope.
Savalan is buried inside us all—
burrowed into souls as water once carved the summit's stones;
His peaks forged in ancient roots—I welcome his dust to gnaw on my bones.
Apr 30
Apr 30, 2026 at 8:42 AM UTC
I was buried in Mount Savalan—
With eyes wide open, sealed in a coffin;
Within the pitch black coffin, laid I— beneath the bright white shroud, stood you.
I was buried in Mount Savalan—
The caves hold their breath in a prayer of stone; The hushed mist, a holy incense;
The lake, a mirror for none but the skies, reflecting he who never forgets.
I was buried in Mount Savalan—
The shepherds carry the summit in their stride, moving like shadows across the scree;
Their songs, the salt of the earth, their hands, gnarled roots of the slope.
Savalan is buried inside us all—
burrowed into souls as water once carved the summit's stones;
His peaks forged in ancient roots—I welcome his dust to gnaw on my bones.
not going to lie, I came up with this as I was listening to "I was Buried in Mount Pleasant Cemetery" by Woods of Ypres. decided to add my own personal and "patriotic" spin to a good starter line. Mount Savalan (of Azerbaijan region in Iran) seemed like the perfect candidate to exercise poetic freedom on.
Request permission to use this poem