Confusion

Twist my reality and throw shadow to my sight. Burn all the frost and freeze the fire in the fight. Conquer a chapter and page through my mind; question certainty and seek the vision of the the blind. The wise fools, the hopeless braves, the menacing matchsticks and lightless days. Ask your demands kindly, speak gently in your scream; state if roots would branches be, if branches lay beneath the tree - If sunlight caught the earth reversed in subterranean monarchy, would life we know be life undone if what we think and what we see were more than sight and more than us, yet to us, moiety.