Hind and Hound

Here I go again disturbing the den of my unconscious mind,
As if I were a hound and it a fleeing hind.
Still, fawnlike, it eludes my capture.
Only leaving behind a perilous rapture.
But if I should manage to enthrall it,
I fear a sudden doom might befall it.
And deeper doom, should I consciously inflict
A mortal wound, but I cannot cease luring it.
For deepest doom of all -
The chase done -
The Beauty gone -