I heard tell of a witch,
A maiden in this harvest season,
A lady in an obsidian regalia,
Where she walks the flock congregates,
A winged host of subjects,
Upon her word do they fly,
She walks paths lost to man,
She is the mother of ravens,
She is never alone,
She is nature,
She is death,
She carries the murder in her soul,
The Morrigan
WorldofHarley 
Spectacular imagery. Love the phrase:
“lady in an obsidian regalia” ,
Thank you kindly! I’m really glad you liked it my friend. ☺️
The Oldschool Harlequin
You are expert in this genre of poetry. Well done piece.
Oh no my friend. I’m barely a novice! ☺️ Thank you again!
The Oldschool Harlequin
A pleasure. 🙂