May I choose?

May I choose my death?
I want to be a complete body, with head.
Don’t exclude my head like Ismail or Rami!
I want to be whole,
not 70 kilograms of meat.
I want to be at home, with my family near,
not in a targeted car or street.

May I choose my grave?
Dig me a proper grave;
craft me a shroud.
Don’t let the dogs or the cats come to feast
while I lie under the rubble, in pieces.
Make me a shroud, a grave and a tombstone.
Don’t keep me in the refrigerated morgue too long;
I will be so cold.

May I choose how I’ll be immortalized?
Talk about me in words, in pictures,
in tales that are prized.
Don’t let me die inside!
It’s enough for me to die in life;
keep me alive in your mind.
Let my voice echo widely, across every land.