Will I be killed like a God? Recklessly, violently, and with no regards to my deeds? 
Will I die like a star? Slowly, burning everything around me, until I am ripped apart and ignited in a final moment of passion? 
Or will I leave like a book, giving inspiration and knowledge until the ones that had read me no longer need to turn the pages to know what I held? That would be my preferred option, as then I could pass without regret, knowing that my obsolescence was a choice.