Epilogue
In Cinema’s flickering glow, a wasteland did I find, Not sand, but memories, a barren state of mind. Love’s broken promise, a phantom in the night, Echoing laughter, a hollow, mocking light.
“I will show you fear in a handful of dust,” Crono’s voice whispered, a haunting, bitter gust. What have I built, but castles in the sand, Washed away by regret, a life unplanned.
“This is the wasteland,” despair’s lullaby, The price of ambition, a teardrop in a dry eye. But amidst the ashes, a flicker takes its hold, Acceptance blooms, a story yet untold.
From hollow echo to a whisper in the breeze, Redemption’s path, through barren desert trees. No happy ending, no gilded, painted stage, Just the strength to rise, and turn a weary page.
Cinema’s whispers fade, the screen goes dark, But in the wasteland’s heart, a future leaves its mark. No longer chasing ghosts in silver light, Jade steps into dawn, and greets the coming night.
![The Moon's Weapon : the cursed mate [ MOVING TO GALATEA]](https://cdn-gcs.inkitt.com/vertical_storycovers/ipad_123f31099804e79c6de11657975bcaae.jpg)
