I am fond of poetry and prose, particularly the more obtuse and mystical varieties. I admit I have on occasion dabbled in the construction of such fantasmagorical entities, weaving nebulous words into circuitous sermons leading everywhere and nowhere.
Problems arise when people take a few abstract lines, a short discourse, and read into the words and phrases more import than was ever meant or designed. Noone in their right mind sets out to write prophecy, imagines they have a divine disposition that allows then to see beyond the veil that separates this reality from every other. Anyone claiming to be a seer is touched, not in a helpful or informative way, but rather by a degree of separation that precludes their words having any truth or footing, spiritual or philosophic.
Writers, particularly men of letters, use textual communications to express ideas, constructs and imaginings, through simile, metaphor, evocation, hyperbole, indeed any figure of speech germane, apposite, and pertinent. Those allegorical and flowery being the most moving and memorable.