His hands are stained with familiar blood,
That of the Uchiha clan-
The same blood running through his veins.
His onyx eyes red from crying and sleepless nights,
The mournful sky grieving over the past.
In the dead of night,
as the brittle leaves dance with the cold, bitter wind,
The wondering souls seeming to be held back by the tree's bony hands.
His family cries out to him,
Always asking "Why, Why did you betray us?"
The nightmare of this reality,
Always taunting of what could have been.
The village becoming a sin,
One he hopes to forget.
His past will come back for vendetta,
Sasuke will feed his hatred.
Secretly, the tears of Heaven mix with his own.
Fighting the overwhelming need to cry, his breath quavers.
Kisame undisturbed by the voices in the wind,
They seem to call to him, begging for him to follow.
Bitter night getting colder as rain steadily falls.
"Not even Heaven can wash our hands of our sins."
Lighting briefly illuminating the surrounding forest,
His demons hiding in the shadows of regret.