What Problem?

I will never understand how anyone can presume truth
just by seeing only shadows and dismay
among the heartlands of the soul?

We reside in the everlasting utopia of our passions
with it being up to us to mine its gold.
To gaze with pessimism's demons is to regress in one's visions
refusing to reject the precognitive precursors of failure
embedded in beings cursed
without the pure efficacious indwelling residence of illumination.

Having set forth, therefore,
each and every boundary for enlightenment,
which can elevate one into ever increasing
cycles of enhancing,
bestows upon the blessed quintessence of numinous nuances
some morsel of ethereal ambrosia
gained as sustenance, through every forged talon of reliance.

Thus,
let us discard the rubbish of negativism's disbelief,
abandoned the decay of ardor's fancy,
and set aside each numbing encumbrance
that henceforth offers no gauze of hope
for healing what is always curable.

Now I shall retire to my hallowed haven
beyond the screaming lairs
where so many languish by choice.

There are no windows in my castle
why should I need to see
what some claim is reality,
but I know is simply the figments
of their hysteria?