This is not the story of Atlantis, the kingdom of Maya lost somewhere in the jungles of Mexico and Central America, the underwater city in Japan, the capital Guge in Tibet, the lost kingdom of Cantre'r Gwaelod and Lyonesse. This is the story of the kingdom, more wonderful than any kingdom ever created, the kingdom that did not exist on maps, which once gone never to be found. Its palaces are invisible, woven from dreams, music, love and fragrances. Its ways are without traces, words without a voice, the sea without waves, the rivers without a murmur, winters without snow, thunders without sound, deserts without storm. Thoughts are the guardians of its walls. Desires are the keepers of its space. Everything is airy in it: sometimes it is bathed in light, and sometimes shrouded in deep darkness. This kingdom is impregnable and can not be bought. Its name is the Kingdom of Souls. In it, there does not exist rich and poor, good and bad, brave and cowardly, beautiful and ugly, honest and dishonest, intelligent and stupid, wise and naive, healthy and sick, happy and unhappy, powerful and powerless, quiet and loud, ordinary and unusual, important and unimportant, subordinates and elevated, modest and greedy, known and unknown, successful and unsuccessful. Everyone in it is equal and the same. Its gates are open to all newborn souls. Some of these souls remain living in it until the end of their life, and some leave. Those who leave never come back, because they can not find it again. So lost, they continue to wander around the other kingdoms, and nostalgically reminisce about the Kingdom of Souls. They're looking for it everywhere: in the people they once trod, in the love of which they readily forgave, in the lies which they are not ashamed, in the aspirations of which they give up easily, in dreams that they did not reverence, in traces which they are hiding, in the pain that they inflicted on others, in the greed with which they were blinded, in the principles which they had not, in the dignity that they were easily denied, in the promises they have not fulfilled, in the offers that they have not rejected, in the decisions that they have not brought, in the gifts that they are not opened, in tears that they are not wiped, in the pleas which they had not heard, in small houses that they were destroyed, in swimming in the river where they were ashamed, in the arrogance with which they were proud, in the origin of which they were hiding. They're looking for it in ships which they sailed, in planes which they were flying away, in trains which they traveled, on the dusty drawers that they are not opened for a long time, in faded photographs that they have not looked for a long time, in the memories that they were easily erased. Lost souls are willing to devote their whole wealth to found again the Kingdom of Souls. There are also those who do not know they once lived in it. These are trapped souls. They are thrown in chains like slaves. So helpless, they stop random passers-by and ask them where they can find the Kingdom of Souls. Lost gold can be found, lost kingdom never.
Lost Kingdom, author Suzana Stojanović, January 10, 2016