Reflection (Continued)...

The hurt it near kills
What we want is yet to be found
Going long going deep
Still
It makes no sound
Looking far searching wide
It's there
And it can be bound

Finding is often blinding
Realisation of the found
Allows time to sleep
With no consideration of the bill
Quickening heart pounds
Paced by the beauty of delight
It's here
And I feel bound