Tortured Moor

On baron hill life’s tortured moor
Rain so sharp pricks every pore
In touch with life so utterly raw
I see such lies before me.
Expect a life without twist or turn
Without loss in mind so deeply burned
And oh for love so deeply yearned
The truth betrayed before me.
Of common man there’s no such thing
No common way of living bring
Such life the melancholic’s sing
Are just simple lies to draw me.
And on life’s hill where cutting rain
Bears open hearts to feel such pain
Tests spirit and soul to beg in vain
That death, head low, implores me.