The Emergence of a Weary Traveler

A poem I wrote (with some outside help of rearranging lines)

A strange, eerie light emerges
from the depths
of the underground fortress.
Where it leads, I know not.
With torch in hand,
and cautious steps,
I am approaching it
to see where it leads.

In fear the breeze
will blow out my flickering torch of yew wood,
Searching and trodding a path
into a forlorn forest
with only a faint trail,
my map has been lost
and I am trying
to find my way back
to somewhere.

Hark! What voice is that I hear?
A voice divine and sweet it seems;
A joyful melody
wafting through the breeze.
Alas, a song so soothing,
but where has it gone?
Where have I heard that same aria before?

That is about all I can do
for now.
I have been wanting
to write a poem,
but no subject
has come to mind.