Obscure and the obscene

Welcome one and all, to the prolific projection of a heart turned to stone.
A blatant ploy on a play of mass of emotion,
an amazing feat of a conductor who directs this symphony with no definitive feeling of ones own. 
Dealt without kindness, handled without care, very deliberate kind yet severe.
Clinging to life for those is like waiting for a knife in the back,
and seeking death for them is not a sure fire way of escaping that.
Spending time alone has become a favourite past time,
and thinking twice has tendencies of severing life lines.
A sinking ship so with the stitches of literature I sowed there mouths shut
and like an old form of sorcery, with the voice of lizards they spoke to me of what was what.
Words are learned in time and indoctrinated with fashion sense in the classroom
"The thin line between entertainment and war".
So in the spirit of manifestation undo the doing of this doom
and turn inanimate objects into living breathing forces of creation.
The sheep flock in herds to the billboard reading time well spent,
while the fools seem to learn to put on a mask of common sense,
which resembles clumsy disregard a bit more.
The wiseman for all appearances sake seems content with the face of indifference
well love at first sight walked out the door.
In the back of ones mind is the solution to a problem not convinced of it's own existence,
but solutions and problems seem to need indefinite conclusions for one to actually bare witness,
objectivity isn't quite as it seems and in orwellian dystopias it's the stuff made from dreams.
The gleam in the critics eye's as they give this a read "The obscure and the obscene".