Crimson Tears (Kakashi)

A whisper of air touching his head,
fondling his moonlit hair, whisking away,
all the blood-red tears that he's shed.
There's no proof of sorrow.

A cold, empty grave he rests upon, as if listening to the earth,
his heart reaching out for a forgotten friend,
whose life, happiness was definitely not worth.
Alone in the wind, stands a scarecrow.

The gift is anything but simple, to be treasured yes, to be misused no,
the power to kill with a single glance,
temptation is easily conquered when remembering him go.
Friendship lives on into death.

But hidden, lies a crimson eye,
underneath the mask, crimson tears fall,
remembering a spirit destined to fly.
A faint haze in a pitch black sky.

He turns away, leaves crushed silently,
the past behind him as he walks, taking off his mask,
he turns back to the stone, to let someone see.
And perfection had a silver face...the tears have dissappeared.