The Man Who Discovered Home (A poem I wrote)

He looked her in the eyes 
All he could see was his reflection
An image of himself, but yet, it wasn't him.
Disappointed he turned back and left,
Forgot about her hazel eyes, 
And the purity he saw in them that day.
Wandering the countries he laid by a river,
A river as clear as a cloudless, starless, and birdless sky.
He stared at the river, but then
All he could see was his plain reflection. 
The river was after all just a river,
And as the river was just a river to the man, 
The man was a stranger to the river.
The poor fellow took off his wallet,
What he found there was little money,
And then oh, he found her picture.
He took it out of the wallet, stared at it, but still, it
Was just a picture, it was just a piece of paper 
And some ink, and discontentedly he threw her 
away, set her free back to the wind .
Still he was unhappy, he still believed, 
From the very bottom of his heart, that there
Must be someone to view him distinctly. 
On his way to the high mountains, the man
Met a woman, a pregnant poor woman,
Pleading for money to feed her little daughter.
In her, her saw agony, despair and hopelessness,
But in her eyes, he saw himself to be someone almighty,
Way better than her, someone rich, replete, and fulfilled.
He looked at her, then he stared back at himself,
He knew he was not any of what she thought he was,
He knew he was a deprived man, starving 
For love, and searching for a welcoming glimpse of familiarity.
Seeing despair, apathy, and absolute foreignness 
Reminded him of the ones he lost in search of himself.
But no, a journey is a commitment, he was not 
Going to give in to his lonesome yearning.
And so, the mountains he climbed, and from the peak
He stared at whatever world was laid upon him. 
Still, what he could see was not complete, 
What he felt was loneliness, fatal seclusion. 
And then he knew all he needed was
His old friend, her, and her hazel eyes.
Down to earth our hero rushed, through 
Oceans, valleys, deserts, he raced like a
Mighty warrior returning home. Returning from a 
Cruel monstrous battle, a battle where he stood alone, and 
The enemy was disguised, but oh, he was there.
As the knight made it home, he knew that
Home was right there in her arms, right there in 
His reflection in her hazel eyes, he knew that
People never achieve integrity, and that
Happiness can only be attained in the arms of loved ones.