Phantasmatopia

(2018)

Prologue

It was many and many a year ago, a tramp I met,

Seeking his long-lost homeland.

To the horizon his eyes were always set;

While his heart was dominated by the feeling of regret.

Ventured I and asked his story

"From Phantasmatopia I am" he told me,

"The land of plenty and equality,

The divine art of man’s philosophical glory.”

Dazzled I was, since it seemed blurry

And, asked to elaborate in his story.

Covered by rag, yet in glory,

A noble glimpse he casted to me.

"What were the pillars of Phantasmatopia?" asked I

Replied the tramp, looking through my eye:

"A heart beating for Freedom,"

"A mind daring for a Just Kingdom."

Canto I

It was a community blessed with prosperity...

None needed anything from Dionysus's charity.

No dire rationality in blurry clarity

Led them follow Midas coercively.

Every Phantasmatopian had an innate duty for lives torn,

Since they knew "Not for ourselves alone we [were] born."

For better it was to have naked bodies to adorn

Than to bury dressed souls and mourn.

In every tiny detail, even on the sand,

Was spiritually carved "Against greed we stand."

And never did they ever refuse a hand

Seeking help in this eternal land.

None ever murmured “mine;”

Yet on all, prosperity still did shine.

Nothing was expected from the divine,

Instead all took shelter in equality's shrine.

Canto II

Sharp was the sword of Themis

To those who distorted the peace

Compared to all other nations',

Sui generis was the Phantasmatopian Justice.

No beheading there ever took place

No judgement hurried in haste.

Yet when proven guilty, not the head; but

His bond with evil was mercifully cut.

For what can be tamed

Should never let to be perished.

For Phantasmatopians, human life was

Something to be cherished.

Those, the fallens of the world's wretched societies

With "Mind-forged menacles" of authorities,

Fettered by the burden of their "given" identities,

Are freed by Phantasmatopia's amenities.

Canto III

"I will fear no evil: for thou art with me;

Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me"

Said none in this serene country,

For no menacing shadows dared to lurk freely.

Yet, all the arts of God had right to breathe

Unless they obeyed not the ethereal law and not seethe.

All mellifluous sounds together made the sonorous melody

That echoed in this ineffable country.

The diverse colors of world's spiritual spectrum

Are rejoiced while giving a momentum

To the rise of the religious freedom,

To the fall of the nefarious "Wisdom."

Radiant was the tolerance of Phantasmatopia, glowing

In the eternal night of the world's mental closing.

All differences created a song of harmony to sing,

Erasing all the fanatical thoughts people did cling.

Canto IV

Preciousness of life was saliently palpable;

Man was carved into nature's eternal marble.

All the offerings of life were available

To both man and neglected actors of the fable.

A pact once they signed with their heart and mind,

Defying the "everlasting" dominion of mankind.

To the history of abuse and violence, their eyes turned blind,

Through which they accomplished to leave the hatred behind.

Nature's children together they

Shared world's richness through all day.

Under no condition, strayed they

The righteous philosophy of equality's way.

Equal agents they were, spider and man, for the culture

Since both sewed their marks into the nature.

Encoded was fraternity in the essence of this structure,

For every living being equally contributed to this majestic sculpture.

Canto V

Politics was dominated by one single fact:

All of voices should be equally heard, and act

To represent all the differences in this pact,

Regardless of color, gender, and number's impact.

No minorities or majorities existed in political sphere

For the righteousness of voices are measured not by numbers there.

The colors of all opinions are celebrated in this country, where

A pact of liberty they did collectively declare.

In politics, no Kings or Lords did engage

For there was no place for them in this new age;

Through which there opened a new page

That ended Democles’s archaic rage.

Phantasmatopians learned from humanity’s past;

And went through a life cycle fast.

This metamorphosis made their horizon vast,

Giving world a revolutionary blast.

Epilogue

Thus was the story remained in my memory,

A muse for those longing for eternal beauty.

In the darkness of world’s deep inertia,

A torch is the story of Phantasmatopia.

Now not a single day hauntingly goes by

I think not of the tramp, gazing the sky.

To the horizon now it is my eyes set,

Weighing to venture this place I can’t forget.

Alas, I know not where it is

Or whether it really exists.

Yet, I know a free breath in harmonic Phantasmatopia

Is worth a life in this world’s cacophonic Distopia.

My compass is now my heart,

Looking for Magnum Opus of man’s art.

My map is now my mind,

Harbouring the place I desire to find.