Labyrinth of miracles the soul dressed as a body on the paillasson of consciousness on the shadow of the written lines becomes a tightrope walker balancing on the fragility of phonemes making us moment reaching the name of the presences in the ephemeral narrative telling us as truth of the last silent word under the narrative of the world under the non-existent skin the non-existent consistency twists like a tree of silence evacuated from divine knowledge whose content must be evacuated except in danger of eternal damnation says absolute knowledge to silence stay in the ideas of everyone for if the other is reduced to two from the beginning it is a maximum whole good one to all origin