The tiniest bird

I wanted to flee to the mountains
His image would not  leave  me alone
I hid in a cave as  a tempest raved
The wind whistled into my bones

After the storm there was fire
The fire that burns into the soul
I stood as the  flames flickered over
The Cave was  fit only for ghouls

With  my candle I looked at the shadows
I wandered about  like a ghost
I abandoned my  thoughts and my writing
He  spoke to me in the  deep dark

Only when all  good’s been taken
When despair is too happy a word
The spirit flies over the water
On the wings of the tiniest bird