A soul diminished leaves a walking husk; empty, incapable and destined to implode. The vastness of desolation collapses the mind and stifles creativity. But even in these wet, moldy, slippery caves of dripping wax and faded light there is some hope. Even in these large empty sanctuaries of despair that are the psyche of the soulless: there lies a beam of pure light shining through a gap in the sorrow. Hold on to that light. Because beauty is everywhere, even in darkness. It just depends how good your eyes are.