We live on borrowed time, on borrowed land, on borrowed dreams, and in borrowed bodies. It is the soul that struggles despite the ease and amenities because it is the only thing we have to ourself. Its needs are unique but simple; neither of this world nor from it. It begs for a status worthy of its sacrifice so when it sees us walking away from it, it protests. That hole in our chest, the void nothing can fill, the tears of extreme sorrow, regret, and repentance are the soul’s way to bridge the gap between this duniya and it’s final home. We burn the bridge time and time again, fall through the hole, and rise from the ashes of our own mistakes but do we learn? The soul begs and questions: what would it take for you to stop hurting me, to stop hurting yourself? It’s met with silence, often ignorance, and a loss so profound that no amount of worldly goods can fill. The soul departs every night, it deserts us only to return, hopeful for a change. It gives us another chance to stand in front of the mirror every morning and ask the question: who am I today?