Let me see

What is the bakers perspective? 
What does the matchmaker see , or does the soldier view ?
Do we all walk in paradise under grand grape vines , or are we bleeding in the snow leaving a trail that defiles us to onlookers ?
What does her eye peek? Colors that rage with vibrancy, or funeral songs dull cold as winter gates .

Do his eyes orchestrate life like drummers away on a Cupid lit night ? Or is it brim to the bones , in blackness we see .
Let me witness the moon laid on that deep onyx field .
Allow me to spectate the sun amongst giant cotton fortresses.