Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, nor do I own the poem.

AN: Just a spur of the moment writing.

I've made so many mistakes in my life, there are so many things I want to go back and change, so many things that need to be set right. Unfortunately it's when a person realizes these things it's already far to late to change them. When a person reaches the end of their life they want to be able to look back over their life and know that they did at least one thing right. Looking back over my own there is nothing I'm proud of.

It's early in the morning; the sun doesn't rise for another few hours. It will be the last sunrise I will ever see, just like the moon overhead now will be the last moon for me. The moon's only a small sliver and by tomorrow night it won't be there at all, much like myself. My body will still be here, but what ever soul I posses will not.

So much time has passed since I saw any of them, my old genin team that is. The only people that actually cared about me, well except maybe my mother, but she's been dead for a long time thanks to my brother. Kakashi was more of a father to me then the one that actually sired me. He taught me so many things not only skill I would need as a ninja, but about life. What do I do, I tell him to get lost and ignore everything he taught me that wouldn't help me destroy my brother. Then there's Naruto. He was always an idiot, but he was always so sure of himself even when no one else thought he could do anything. The number one loud mouthed ninja from Kahona is the only person in the world that I could ever think of as a friend. No matter how many times I pushed him away and degraded him he would always come right back. Just like a true friend would, unlike me the one who tries to kill him a number of times and betraying him every chance I get. Last but not least the one person, no my angel who I love more then anything. That's right Uchiha Sasuke loves someone. Hell has frozen over all for the sake of one girl- Sakura. She loved me so unconditionally. Had I had a different past I know that my future would have been with her. My angels soft pink hair and blazing green eyes were sadly not enough to break though the ice that I had built up around my heart, and now that it has shattered I must face the hard and painful truth that I will never be with her, not only that but I will not even get to see her before I die. What I wouldn't give to see her on last time, if only to tell her I'm sorry and that I love her.

There was a poem I remember hearing a man say to his wife while I was on a mission once long ago before I had turned my back on what I now wish could be my life. These are the words I wish I could say to my dear Sakura.

'How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and the breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of being and ideal grace.

I love thee to the level of every day's

Mos quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

I love thee freely, as men strive for right.

I love the purely, as they turn from praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.

With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tear, of all my life; if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.

(Elizabeth Barrett Browning)

How fitting that I should remember this poem about the women I love the day of my death. The sun has risen in the time that I let my mind wander. I can hear the foot steps of the man who will lead me to the place where I will breath my last breath while another life force will force its way into my body snuffing out my own life in the process.

There has never been anything in my life that I don't regret, and now I know what I have to do. My decision has been made. There is only thing I can do that my help my soul rest in more easily. I will not let that evil man use me for his own plans. In a sick way this is my apology to those people that I hurt. I watch my own hand reach for the katana at my hip as if it were not my own. The blade slides from it's sheath as the cool metal reflects the early morning light. I can feel my lips stretch into a smile as the blade in my hand twists to point at my heart that will always belong to my green eyed angel whose heart I broke long ago when I whispered the words 'Thank You' into her ear before leaving her behind. Closing my own eyes I can almost see her face a I plunge my own blade deep into my heart. I hardly feel the pain as my angel reaches out her hand to me and draws me into her warm embrace.

I barely hear the door open or the shocked cry from the man who was sent to prepare me for the sacrifice. I can hardly feel my body anymore. The outside world fades and all I know is cold darkness and the sad green eyed angel holding me in her arms. How I love my angel. I know I love her more in my death.