Beneath the Point the Inert Intrigues

Mental Stimulation, shuffles forth elation, creation begins to grow
Pulled back like compound bow
String flies forth and slices skin on the inside of the arm
No guard to ward off injury
Or unsightly carnal imagery

Rejection of the screen
Books to read and words to write
To light the way for second sight
Don't care for how they entertain
Lack of substance is insane

Blind acceptance of tormenting trend
Leaves thinking man to try and fend off the intricacy of idiocy
And their aesthetic free cacophony