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.