Answer:
It is a part of us, and then replaced. It escapes out bodies, to a better place. The world becomes its sizeable home. Its passions unrestraint, the planet it roams.
What gets beaten, and whipped, but never cries?
You can always see it, but it's too far away to touch. Mountains rest on it, and at sea it surrounds you. What is it?
I am whole but incomplete. I have no eyes, yet I see. You can see, and see right through me. My largest part is one fourth of what I once was.
My first is an insect; my second is a border; my whole puts the face in a tuneful disorder.
People take me on walks and I run and have fun. What am I?