If I don't make it to Jerusalem

Theme: Freedom-Huriye-Azadi

On the day Palestine is free,  

I will not shout first,

I will remember.  

The brave who bled for our tomorrow:  

The warriors in the dust,  

The doctors with tireless hands,  

The journalists with broken cameras,  

All silenced, but never gone.  

I will whisper their names like prayer beads,  

One by one,  

For they are the roots beneath our soil,  

The breath in our call for dawn.  

Then

I will run, barefoot, to Jerusalem.  

With every step, the earth will sing.  

I will kiss the land like a long-lost child,  

Breathe its ancient air,  

And let my tears fall on its stone.  

I will pray.  

Pray with my hands shaking in joy,  

Thanking Allah for the mercy of return,  

For the sky above Al-Aqsa,  

For the martyrs beneath our feet.  

And if I don’t live to see that day—  

If this war takes me before the light does,  

Let someone run there in my name.  

Let them kiss the land for both of us.  

Don’t forget me.  

Say my name in prayer,  

And tell Jerusalem —  

Her son, Ali longed for her until his last breath.