Sabaku Gaara родился 7 Июля 1989 года. Он был рожден в городе Sunagakure no Sato. В своих религиозных взглядах он указал: "Hate religion".
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Вот, что рассказывает Sabaku о себе:
underneath this shell I hide, there are two of me inside... do I live for nothing else ? Despite the lies that u making Your love is mine for the taking My love is just waiting To turn your tears to roses I will be the one that's gonna hold u I will be the one that u run to My love is a burning, consuming fire No, u'll never be alone When darkness comes I'll light the night with stars Hear my whispers in the dark No, u'll never be alone When darkness comes U know I'm never far Hear my whispers in the dark U feel so lonely and ragged U lay here broken and naked My love is just waiting To clothe u in crimson roses I will be the one that's gonna find u I will be the one that's gonna guide u My love is a burning, consuming fire No, u'll never be alone When darkness comes I'll light the night with stars Hear my whispers in the dark No, u'll never be alone When darkness comes U know I'm never far Hear my whispers in the dark === Ghosts === Was it the strain of the waltz that, repeating "Love", so bewitched me? or only the gleam There of the lustres, that set my heart beating, Feeling your presence as one feels a dream? For, on a sudden, the woman of fashion, Soft at my side in her diamonds and lace, Vanished, and pale with reproach or with passion, You, my dead sweetheart, smiled up in my face. Music, the nebulous light, and the sifting Fragrance of women made amorous the air; Born of these three and my thoughts u came drifting, Clad in dim muslin, a rose in your hair. There in the waltz, that followed the lancers, Hard to my breast did I crush you and hold; Far through the stir and the throng of the dancers Ownard I bore you as often of old. Pale were your looks; and the rose in your tresses Paler of hue that the dreams we have lost;-- "Who", then I said, "is it sees or who guesses, Here in the hall, that I dance with a ghost?" Gone! And the dance and the music are ended. Gone! And the rapture dies out of the skies. And, on my arm, in her elegance splendid, The woman of fashion smiles up in my eyes. Had I forgotten? And did you remember?-- You, who are dead, whom I cannot forget; You, for whose sake all my heart is an ember Covered with ashes of dreams and regret...