From the same screen come blessings and cursing
Like our mouths, they are backlit by hell-fire
And fueled by a tube of passion that colors everything
We like to look at the likenesses but not be the likeness
And we try not to see the prototype looking back at us
As we gaze deeply into flesh lit by flames of passion
Do your kids really watch Veggietales on that thing?
Do you message your mother with that screen?
Every jot and pixel, every tastebud and sensor is tainted
The fount of knowledge spews brackish water at us
At the click of a button we make sweet water bitter
And drown in a pool of light in a room made dark
If a web isn’t full of arachnids it is full of flies and moths
Struggling to get ever more caught until they are drained
Leave the gossamer threads to be tied with chains for Christ
Wisdom comes from above, but not down from the cloud
It can only be seen in spirit and the spoken Word
Seeded with an application of righteousness and peace
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