Sakura takes her words back. Sakura is willing to eat her words, swallow them whole if necessary. She would rather have the ridiculous paths of glory and love and time-travelling set forth by fate for her, than these paths of nightmare and grief and death and despair –
It takes all her the strength she can muster not to break, not to crack, not to succumb to utter deapair when lifetimes followed by lifetimes lead to either the destruction of Konoha, the Shinobi Nation, or loss of her loved ones, or all three at once. These lifetimes (hells)haunt her, and will probably continue to do so, as if fate is trying to balance out the triumph and peace and happiness at the beginning and tying her down with memories of sorrow and death and despair.
Sakura recalls the saltiness of her tears when she fails to save Itachi (again and again); she remembers how no voice will come out from her throat even though she's screaming and screaming and screaming for Naruto and Sasuke to wake up (it's impossible they've lost too much blood); she still tastes the rage, seething and frothing, towards Konoha, towards the Rabbit Goddess, towards fate when the members of Akatsuki, who she sees as family, as her treasured one, die one by one and there's nothing she can do to save them or grant them relief or do anything.
In the end, Sakura fails to stay rooted and succumbs to darkness herself, allying with Zetsu and Kaguya the Rabbit Goddess (who she's supposed to hate, but she doesn't fucking care anymore) to release the Infinite Tsukuyomi on the Shinobi World, and when she too, feels the threads of the cocoon sliding up her shin, Sakura wonders if this will finally mark the end of her countless lifetimes.