AU: Ya, It's a little depressing but the idea suddenly struck me as I was watching Itachi die, again. I swear, I've watched that episode like 100 times! Anyway, back tot he poem.
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN NARUTO!
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The black figure of the moon-lit moves swiftly through the shadows,
stalking, listening, ready to strike.
His emotions are under a spell, a bind,
screaming, begging to be set free.
As he fulfills his mission, silently he thinks,
he thinks of those who love him, of those who care,
but there are none to be said, life being unfair.
The shadow creeps out, silently making his escape,
blood covers his hands and stains his soul.
The mission is complete, Hoorah! Hoorah!
But who is there to praise him, to care?
The wind and the night, the only ones there.
So time withers this figure away,
he is but a shell of what he used to be.
Caring, loving, and tender,
an older brother was he.
But that time has come and gone,
he traded it for hate.
For malice and criticism, a villain of the Dawn's red clouds.
As he silently fades, he does not complain,
he never complains, he only adjusts.
So this figure, one of many, is burned by the flames of vengance,
Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust.
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AU: If you didn't really figure it out by the first couple of lines of the poem, the person in the story is Itachi Uchiha.