THIS LIFE IS GOING TO BE THE DEATH OF ME

My feelings wash over me like waves
   of a sea.
I am pulled under.
I breathe in water.
Everything is growing dark.
I am drowning.
This is my life.
Not so much to put any hope in.
I am helpless.
I cannot even look after myself.
I hide in the dark.
I only cry in the rain.
This is my life.
I am a dead man walking.
Looking down a long, endless hallway.
It seems to go on forever.
Am I being paranoid?
Am I lying to myself?
Or is someone else?
Controlling me like a puppet hanging
   from strings.
This is my life.
None the worse.
None the better.
I am indifferent.
I just do not care.
I have had enough of everything.
Too many voices burning my ears.
Filling my mind.
From which I cannot escape.
Oh the noise is slowly taking me from
   lucidity.
I have become mute and moot.
I am of no consequence.
I found a home through the cracks
   in the floor.
No one noticed me disappear.
I dare say they would not have cared
   had they.
Separated, isolated, anti-social, that's me.
This is my life.
It's going to be the death of me.
This life.

SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY

(WHY) I GO

Down on calloused hands and knees.
Beneath blood red skies.
My tears are flowing.
Leaving crimson stains on my face.
My heart and soul are crying out.
Oh how they ache.
Oh how I ache.
Grief and sorrow stifle me.
My mouth is dry.
I cannot swallow.
I am an open grave.
I am swallowed whole.
The darkness envelopes me.
I am overwhelmed by despair.
I become angry.
My fury unleashes itself.
My rage goes forth.
As I tear my way out of this grave.
I was never dead anyway.
I turn to see my grave swallow itself
   whole.
It has defeated itself.
Death is no more.
Still I feel the pain.
The self-destructiveness returns.
It's so easy for me.
When I hate all that I am and
   who I am at times.
I still feel drawn back down.
Six feet does not seem that far down.
But I turn away.
I get up and stand.
I will not accept this for me.
I deserve so much more.
I AM so much more!
I will not let all this defeat me,
   NO, not any more!
I will not be pulled down again.
I was blind, but no longer,
   now I am seeing.
The crimson stains will fade.
But they will always remain.
Right with all of my scars.
Which I will not hide.
I will bear them proud.
They are badges of honour to me.
They tell the story of my so-called
   life.
My heart and soul, torn, still ache.
That's why I need saving grace
   as I do.
I cannot do this alone.
I would surely return to the grave
   if left alone.
Hope is all that I have.
And I will hold steadfast to it.
As I push through all the thorns
   before me.
They cut and rip me, but I have been
   through worse.
I still hold onto my hope.
Nothing will tear it from my grasp.
Hope holds onto me.
I know I will never be let down.
Even though I may forget from time
   to time.
So let the skies bleed red.
Let the earth be scorched.
I will keep on.
I will walk on.
I will press forward.
I will fall again, but I will pick myself
   up and carry on.
So let the world fall down on me.
Mine is already in ruins.
What could come my way that could
   be worse?
I have been through hell.
I was burned.
But I made it through.
And here I am.
Bruised and cut.
Let the healing begin.
As I keep moving on.
Throwing all the grief and sorrow off
   to the side.
Leaving them to rot and decay.
Weary I am.
Worn and weathered.
Cracked and chapped.
Still, I am still.
I am sound.
I will not fear.
I just want to go home.
I will fight with all that I am.
Even to the very end.
I will not quit.
I will not give up or even give in.
My resolve is solid.
And grows even more so with each day.
I have my hope.
It's all I really have.
It's what keeps me.
And so I go.
I go!

SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY

ALL THINGS BEAUTIFUL (COME WITH THE RAIN)

I listen to the gentle falling of rain drops.
I feel at peace.
Something unfamiliar to me.
I imagine all that grows as they greedily
   swallow the life giving water.
And I am mindful of God's good grace.
For He provides for all of His Creation.
I take in the aroma of the wet grass
  and wet pines and evergreens.
It reminds me of the ever turning cycle
   of life.
Everything is new.
Born time and time again.
The rain washes away the old.
Making room for the new.
When the rain stops there sprouts that
   new life.
All the dirt and grime of the world
   is washed away as well.
With every ending starts a new beginning.
Mother nature is ever at work watching
   over God's creation, nature.
For out in nature that's when one is
   closest with our Lord.
Lord over all.
Oh how I love to stand out in the rain.
And stare up at the sky, watching
   the rain drops coming down on me.
Making me feel like the world and life
   are being washed away.
Something I most sorely need.
I feel so alive in moments like these.
Saturated with God's perfect love.
Rain, rain please do not go away.
Stay awhile longer.
Make me feel new again.
And when you must depart I know
   I can depend on God's new light.
To wash over everything.
Like He's telling us He loves us so much.
Oh how I love the rain.
Both gentle and driving.
God please let the rains come and wash
   my pain away.

SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY

LOST FOREVER

I am torn.
Broken and beaten.
My life is all about pain.
I know so much hurt.
From so many harms.
My tears flow freely.
Pulling me down.
Into a sea of pity.
Where I drown.
I am overcome.
I can no longer hold my head above.
The darkness is coming swiftly.
It will wash over me.
I can see the storm coming.
Far off into the distance.
I have nowhere to go.
Nowhere to hide.
I am exposed.
And that is what is killing me.
I would give anything.
Just to know one moment's peace.
Just to know one moment's peace
   of mind.
I would die for that.
Just to wake up not fearing the day.
But this is my lot.
This is my measure.
Break all my teeth.
Break all my bones.
Tear off all the flesh.
The pain cannot compare with
   what I "live" with each day.
So I close my eyes.
I try to close my mind.
Knowing deep down I am cursed.
To keep reliving the past.
Its' talons dug deep into my soul.
Through the cracks in my mind.
I am slowly bleeding out.
If only I could release the pressure.
All of this would not be overflowing.
Carrying me away far down the river.
Where I am lost forever.

SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY

YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO

I watch you suffer.

Oh, how my heart aches.

I love you so much.

But you will not let me near.

If there were just something to say

   that would make it all better, I would.

You just keep pushing me away.

I see the fear and anger in your eyes.

I know I can never understand.

I know I have no right to tell you how

   to think or who you are.

I just want to reach out, but you just

   knock my hands away.

I just want to hold you.

You just turn away.

I will tell you one thing though.

You are not the only one suffering.

I suffer too, for I love you.

My child, you do not have to be alone.

But I leave the choice in your hands.

I know only you know what to do.

SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY

Dedicated to all those who love us.