Castaway attempts to answer the question, “What does the cycle of evil look like?” A follow-up question might be, “And why does Ric seem know so much about it?”
In our typical fix-it mode, we ask, “How on earth can we stop this!!??” Of course, the sobering answer is, we cannot. We lack that kind of power. Even more sobering is the fact that even if we could stop this cycle, we would not.
Fortunately, we are not the ones in control.
castaway, cast•away, cast•a•way
i know how to lie, my dad i would be,
i learned how to hide from hope and all dreams
i know how to be the nicest of whores
i learned how to see your love as a chore
i know how to whore my heart without shame
i learned how to store my guilt and my pain
i know how to shame the thief from my cell
i learned how to blame this world for my hell
i know how to sell the lies that can kill
i learned how to tell these lies from my will
i know how to kill with words from my tomb
i learned how to till my pain in the womb
i know how to tomb a child’s lone hope
i learned how to doom; give judas his rope
i know how to hope you die while i seethe
i learned how to cope to stay off my knees
i know how to seethe; so scared i would rage
i learned how to teeth on bars of my cage
i know how to rage, the screams in my mind
i learned how to wage my war on your kind
i know how to mind my p’s and my q’s
i learned how to find my time without you
i know how to queue my vilest of deeds
i learned how to lure my friends in the weeds
i know how to deed all evil i know
i learned how to seed a child’s lost soul
i know how to know when teaching my hate
i learned how to sow the lies of my fate
i know how to hate the one i should love
i learned how to bait my lies with your dove
i know now your Love.
your death for my sin.
i learn from above
now living in Him.
i feel all my sin.
i spit in your face.
i’ve learned i can’t win.
i’m quitting this chase.
i hear now and face
my echoes roll past.
i’ve learned not to waste,
the years go by fast.
i see now my past.
i cringe at my lies.
i’ve learned just how vast
my sin is and cry.
my children know lies.
it’s me they would be,
they learned how to hide
from hope and all dreams.
dead me i can’t be,
seen tied to my stone.
cast me to the sea
then bring them all home.
And whosoever shall cause one of these little ones that believe on me to stumble, it were better for him if a great millstone were hanged about his neck, and he were cast into the sea.
–Mark 9:42 (ASV)
© ricbooth.com 2007