Set forth into slumber,
Dwell not in the night of reality;
Watch as evening dies,
Setting fate for the moon's rise.
Cliff side stood a lone figure, the idle company of darkness baring witness to the solitude of this god among men. Stillness not did this time have to befall, crashing waves and howling winds breaking against the shore line below. The ocean churned, spitting up a line of pale grey foam from its blackened waters, settling on the sands enveloped in twilight. The lingering salt brought in by the sea air could be tasted at the back of one's throat; a bitter and foul sensation. Not wavered by the gale of the growing storm, the stature-like figure remained stationary, dark eyes locked to the beach.
Over the horizon comes the light,
The source of eerie white;
Dancing shadows made of ink,
Moving gracefully in sync.
Symbolism; something the timeless man need not to waste his time with pondering on. Though should one think, the waves were what he wished he could impersonate in a way. He wished to wash away the sins of the world, and maybe another thing of more personal nature; his memories. To have each carried off as though they were a tiny grain of sand, would be small happiness in itself. He cringed. That word; happy. After the death of the one most important to him, moments of that emotion were seldom to none, despite how he used to try. It didn't work. However, few did come after the childhood wish of he and one other had come to light.
Charcoal grey blanketed the sky,
A coming change soon to be nigh;
Darkness is what thrived,
As the storm arrived.
It was nothing more than a dream destined to fail from the start; a fantasy dreamt up by two boys of like mind. The sole reason the agreement had come to pass was because of one person. The only remaining person who made the god of Uchiha continue to fight. The only one who gave him the tiniest spark of hope in the world he deemed forsaken. Senju Hashirama. The dream was theirs, and at first, theirs alone. It came to pass when he had nothing else to live for, bar to continuous fights until his death. A village was founded, a place of peace for all. No longer would there be children dying in battle. No longer innocent people be dying. Eventually, there was hope for there to no longer be war. To the Uchiha, not long after the village began to thrive, he realised that all it actually was, was a sham.
Thunder crashed,
Lightning flashed;
Intensity building,
With the storm still raging.
Peace. That was his true dream. In times past, once, he thought he had finally achieved it within himself, but then, it went to the dogs. Love, the thing that can make a man saw higher than ever thought humanly possible, or bring one down into deeper depths of grief of the same manner. Madara was never lucky in that field, until that was, Hashirama came back into his life. It was a quiet affair, kept well under the noses of prying clan elders. If the blossoming romance had gotten out, it may not have bod well in the newly forming political system of the village. It made Madara happy, nonetheless. This was, as with almost every love story, a short lived venture. It came that Hashirama needed fell for another, one who he was arranged to be wedded to. Madara bit back his tongue there, accepting it as political affairs to aid the village. However, things unsaid remained forever engraved into his blackening heart.
Winds blew high above,
Taking with them the last legs of the bellowing weather;
Skies became clear,
Illumination of white light now near.
The land became motionless, with exception of the gently rolling ride. No longer did the winds holler, calling out into nothing but the barren night. The dull, onyx eyes that previously lay on the beach, were fixated on the moon. It was full, hanging perfectly over the horizon, slowly sinking; dawn would arrive soon, and it would be time for the Uchiha's departure. He turned his back to the ocean as the last sliver of moon lit vacated the sky, the chirping of sea birds filling the once close to silent air. For most, a new day heralded a fresh start, a chance for a new beginning, even. For Madara, each day only held more time to relive the distance memories of his life, and left him often questioning if there was any point to even continue on. All that Uchiha Madara was left with, was broken dreams.
As moonlight dimmed into morning,
So goes foretold of its legacy;
Without the sun,
The moon is nothing.