Soul 

It is neither sacred that its existence is unknown, nor sublime that it does not want you to be more than you. It is neither thoughtful that it does not prevent you from yourself. It is neither meaningful that it has no meaning without you. It is neither a part that falls apart from your character, nor a drop that breaks away from your conscience. It is the maximum humanity of the sublimity engraved in your heart. It neither existed with you nor found a life without you. Behind your eyes, in the courage of your heart, in the far corners of your mind, it made you who you are. It existed at a time when your soul was wandering in echoless rooms, where each door of the rooms was a future that opened to you. From nothingness to existence, from darkness to light, it existed with your soul, one more than you.