Black flag

When I die
let the black rag fly
raven falling
from the sky.

Let the black flag lie
on bones and skin
that long last night
as I enter in.

For out of black
soul's night have stirred
dawn's cold gleam,
morning's singing bird.

Let black day die,
let black flag fall,
let raven call,
let new day dawn
of black reborn.

George Woodcock

(Picture: Dawn, Otto Dix)