Prompt: Intimations of our transience become more insistent – they would, wouldn’t they? – in Through the Looking-Glass, the sequel Carroll published in December 1871. The prefatory poem to this winter narrative has a distinctly melancholy tone, spelling out the exact cause for such a change in mood: “We are but older children, dear, / who fret to find our bedtime near.”

Prompt: Besides, Alice is mostly in charge of her metamorphoses. Granted: we have to allow for a certain margin of error, but that’s only fair. In Wonderland, precise instructions are pretty thin on the ground beyond a cursory “Drink Me” or “Eat Me”. Not to mention Caterpillar’s cryptic advice about the “two sides” of the mushroom he’s sitting on: one makes you grow taller, the other shorter but, to Alice’s puzzlement, “which is which?”.

Prompt: In Through the Looking-Glass, a narrative loosely governed both by specular principles and by the rules of chess, once again Alice isn’t at all recalcitrant to play the game – in fact, by her own admission, she “would like to be a Queen, best”. Isn’t this tantamount to a declaration of willingness, nay, eagerness to develop? And so we come back to my original point.

Prompt: By watery carillons and will-o-wisping weirs dreams a demoiselle of her beloved’s return, bosomed bodiced in pastels laid lightly as leaf-shadows dancing by lantern-light upon liquid pages

Negative: nudity

Prompt: It’s true that the changes in Alice’s body, and her confusion about her own identity, lend themselves to being read as apt correlatives to the turmoil of puberty. But, forgive my literal-mindedness, the seven-(and-a-half)-year-old Alice would have to be a really precocious child to worry about puberty or adulthood – even at a time when the age of consent was twelve.

Prompt: A captivating sense of wonder and awe, standing in the foreboding as the world awaits an unknown threat, capturing the anticipation and suspenseful uneasiness preceding the looming and imminent disaster, as suggested by “Awaiting What Comeths”

Negative: low detail in depth field

Prompt: As for Alice, in the garden of live flowers, she is told flat out that she is “beginning to fade” – a point reiterated in a roundabout way in Humpty Dumpty’s suggestion that she “might have left off at seven”, instead of reaching the “uncomfortable”, grand old age of “seven years and six months”.

Prompt: I resisted all the way: a new thing for me, and a circumstance which greatly strengthened the bad opinion Bessie and Miss Abbot were disposed to entertain of me. The fact is, I was a trifle beside myself; or rather OUT of myself, as the French would say: I was conscious that a moment’s mutiny had already rendered me liable to strange penalties, and, like any other rebel slave, I felt resolved, in my desperation, to go all lengths. ‘Hold her arms, Miss Abbot: she’s like a mad cat.’ ‘For shame! for shame!’ cried the lady’s-maid. ‘What shocking conduct, Miss Eyre, to strike a young gentleman, your benefactress’s son! Your young master.’ ‘Master! How is he my master? Am I a servant?’ ‘No; you are less than a servant, for you do nothing for your keep. There, sit down, and think over your wickedness.’

Prompt: In the hushed light of dusk, the air is permeated with a tense atmosphere. Dampness is suddenly woven into the air, as a harbinger of stunning changes. A heavy shadow spread across the sky, which, like a mask of failure, throws itself on the former harmony of the environment. Suddenly, an unknown restlessness has set out into a storm that unstoppably breaks through the blossoming silence. The sky, which had previously looked like a calm canvas, was now pouring with torrents of rain, as if expressing the same sorrow that was evident in the area below. Amidst the chaos of a blossoming natural flood, there is a sense of unforeseen trouble. The lonely image of the trees, which once stood with dignity, now became a sign of impotence before an unexpected adventure. The land that was once stable now trembles with unexpected difficulties. Nature itself seems to regret, as if whispering a sad melody about what happened. In the very center of the storm stands a lonely figure, a symbol of resilience in the face of adversity. However, even their contours conveyed a vulnerability, an awareness that trouble was tightly woven into the fabric of their existence. What was once a pictorial harmony has now turned into a canvas of failures, where every stroke bears the imprint of an unexpected fate.

Prompt: From the few words of Aurelius, we can deeply understand the emotions behind these words. At that time, the ancient Roman Empire had already begun to decline. Foreign invasion, internal turmoil, and various social problems made him anxious. He comforted himself in the book: \"No, it should be said that I am so lucky. Although I encountered such a thing, I was not injured, was neither shattered by the current situation, nor fearful of the future.

Prompt: A sense of foreboding as the world awaits an unknown threat, capturing the anticipation and suspenseful uneasiness preceding the looming and imminent disaster, as suggested by “Awaiting What Comeths”

Prompt: And passing even into my purer mind With tranquil restoration:—feelings too Of unremembered pleasure: such, perhaps, As have no slight or trivial influence On that best portion of a good man’s life, His little, nameless, unremembered, acts Of kindness and of love

Prompt: As time passed, Alice walked into another store and saw a strange man standing in the corner. His eyes emitted an evil light that made Alice feel uneasy. The man approached her and offered a mysterious item under extremely harsh conditions. Alice couldn't believe her ears. She firmly refused the deal, but the man didn't seem to be giving up.

Prompt: From childhood’s hour I have not been As others were—I have not seen As others saw—I could not bring My passions from a common spring— From the same source I have not taken My sorrow—I could not awaken My heart to joy at the same tone— And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone— Then—in my childhood—in the dawn Of a most stormy life—was drawn From ev’ry depth of good and ill The mystery which binds me still— From the torrent, or the fountain— From the red cliff of the mountain— From the sun that ’round me roll’d In its autumn tint of gold— From the lightning in the sky As it pass’d me flying by— From the thunder, and the storm— And the cloud that took the form (When the rest of Heaven was blue) Of a demon in my view—

Prompt: I'm waiting in my cold cell when the bell begins to chime Reflecting on my past life and it doesn't have much time 'Cause at 5 o'clock, they take me to the Gallows Pole The sands of time for me are running low Running low, yeah! When the priest comes to read me the last rites Take a look through the bars at the last sights Of a world that has gone very wrong for me Can it be that there's some sort of error? Hard to stop the surmounting terror Is it really the end, not some crazy dream? Somebody, please tell me that I'm dreaming It's not easy to stop from screaming The words escape me when I try to speak Tears flow, but why am I crying? After all, I'm not afraid of dying Don't I believe that there never is an end? As the guards march me out to the courtyard Somebody cries from a cell, \"God be with you\" If there's a God, why has he let me go? As I walk, my life drifts before me Though the end is near I'm not sorry Catch my soul, it's willing to fly away Mark my words, believe my soul lives on Don't worry now that I have gone I've gone beyond to seek the truth When you know that your time is close at hand Maybe then you'll begin to understand Life down here is just a strange illusion

Prompt: I'm waiting in my cold cell when the bell begins to chime Reflecting on my past life and it doesn't have much time 'Cause at 5 o'clock, they take me to the Gallows Pole The sands of time for me are running low Running low, yeah! When the priest comes to read me the last rites Take a look through the bars at the last sights Of a world that has gone very wrong for me Can it be that there's some sort of error? Hard to stop the surmounting terror Is it really the end, not some crazy dream? Somebody, please tell me that I'm dreaming It's not easy to stop from screaming The words escape me when I try to speak Tears flow, but why am I crying? After all, I'm not afraid of dying Don't I believe that there never is an end? As the guards march me out to the courtyard Somebody cries from a cell, \"God be with you\" If there's a God, why has he let me go? As I walk, my life drifts before me Though the end is near I'm not sorry Catch my soul, it's willing to fly away Mark my words, believe my soul lives on Don't worry now that I have gone I've gone beyond to seek the truth When you know that your time is close at hand Maybe then you'll begin to understand Life down here is just a strange illusion

Prompt: I'm waiting in my cold cell when the bell begins to chime Reflecting on my past life and it doesn't have much time 'Cause at 5 o'clock, they take me to the Gallows Pole The sands of time for me are running low Running low, yeah! When the priest comes to read me the last rites Take a look through the bars at the last sights Of a world that has gone very wrong for me Can it be that there's some sort of error? Hard to stop the surmounting terror Is it really the end, not some crazy dream? Somebody, please tell me that I'm dreaming It's not easy to stop from screaming The words escape me when I try to speak Tears flow, but why am I crying? After all, I'm not afraid of dying Don't I believe that there never is an end? As the guards march me out to the courtyard Somebody cries from a cell, \"God be with you\" If there's a God, why has he let me go? As I walk, my life drifts before me Though the end is near I'm not sorry Catch my soul, it's willing to fly away Mark my words, believe my soul lives on Don't worry now that I have gone I've gone beyond to seek the truth When you know that your time is close at hand Maybe then you'll begin to understand Life down here is just a strange illusion, by odd Nerdrum, Beksinski, Michael Whelan, Kim Keever, Raphael, Caravaggio, Rembrandt

Prompt: Once upon a time in a small village nestled in the rolling hills of England, there lived an old farmer named John. John was known far and wide for his wisdom and patience. He had a saying that he would often share with the villagers: “Patience is the key to a bountiful harvest.”

Prompt: While you and I are alive among blood and ice, Among the oblivion of love in the weariness of labor. On our torn sleeves the swastika has decayed, It would be better to look at the clouds like fools. A transparent butterfly soul in the pollen of hopes He will rise, hurrying home, above the blackness of his clothes. Only the body spilled a glass of milk into the ground, He had so little time to look at the clouds. On pain of our own deaths in the desire to be, We are ready to shed the tears of future children over the edges. Forgive us for the weakness of our souls, for what is deep The sadness of bloody puddles, beyond the clouds...

Prompt: Alice, a young girl, sits bored by a riverbank and spots a White Rabbit with a pocket watch and waistcoat lamenting that he is late. Surprised, Alice follows him down a rabbit hole, which sends her into a lengthy plummet but to a safe landing. Inside a room with a table, she finds a key to a tiny door, beyond which is a garden. While pondering how to fit through the door, she discovers a bottle reading \"Drink me\". Alice drinks a portion of the bottle's contents, and to her astonishment, she shrinks small enough to enter the door. However, she had left the key upon the table and cannot reach it. Alice then discovers and eats a cake, which causes her to grow to a tremendous size. Unhappy, Alice bursts into tears, and the passing White Rabbit flees in a panic, dropping a fan and two gloves. Alice uses the fan for herself, which causes her to shrink once more and leaves her swimming in a pool of her own tears. Within the pool, Alice meets various animals and birds, who convene on a bank and engage in a \"Caucus Race\" to dry themselves. Following the end of the race, Alice inadvertently frightens the animals away by discussing her cat.

Prompt: an image described by: And passing even into my purer mind With tranquil restoration:—feelings too Of unremembered pleasure: such, perhaps, As have no slight or trivial influence On that best portion of a good man’s life, His little, nameless, unremembered, acts Of kindness and of love

Prompt: an image described by: And passing even into my purer mind With tranquil restoration:—feelings too Of unremembered pleasure: such, perhaps, As have no slight or trivial influence On that best portion of a good man’s life, His little, nameless, unremembered, acts Of kindness and of love

Prompt: In this winter's check-in season, I discovered an extraordinary miracle in the midst of simplicity. Strolling along the snowy path, I eagerly embarked on the journey back home. Despite the biting cold wind, the inner yearning overshadowed the chill. It was a season filled with magic, where the winter's chill couldn't dampen people's longing for home. On the way home, I noticed a dazzling starry sky. The myriad stars in the sky twinkled, as if narrating the warmth of home. This particular star seemed to possess a kind of magic, guiding lost souls to find the way back home. As I approached my hometown, the brilliance of the stars intensified. I couldn't help but stop and gaze, overwhelmed with emotions. This star became the guiding light for my journey back home, illuminating the path ahead. Finally, I stepped onto the familiar soil of my hometown. Family members were already waiting at the doorstep, their smiles resembling the warmth of a winter sun, thawing my cold heart. The atmosphere of the Spring Festival permeated the air, and the tantalizing aroma of the meticulously prepared New Year's Eve dinner wafted through the surroundings. However, what moved me the most was not just the warmth of my family but the revelation behind the guiding star. As I shared the magical tale of the star with my family, they disclosed an unexpected secret. The star was a collectively lit \"Homecoming Star.\" To help me find my way back home, they released a dream into the night sky every evening. In this winter's check-in season, I personally experienced the greatness within the ordinary. The \"Homecoming Star\" became the coziest check-in spot in my heart, not only brightening the night sky but also illuminating the journey back home. Under this radiant starry sky, I learned gratitude and appreciation. This profound sense of touch will accompany me through a warm Spring Festival, becoming the most beautiful chapter in my homecoming story.

Prompt: Why should fate, which is not destined to be a fickle lyricism, sing the same with it (unknown in the world)The love and friendship of old?Sad truth, poet, Why should I expose the secrets of the intrigues of treachery in truthful songs for posterity?

Prompt: Four walls, a refuge moulded by her character, shaped by her restless mind, toned by her relentless fervour. A sharp scent of incense welcomed the guest, embosoming him in opulent fumes that caressed his eyelids, naturally drawing thoughts and focus on resting upon the pillowed bed propped against the wall, on the opposite end of the room from the entrance. Four additional pillows, decorated with warm red and orange oriental patterns, seemed to burst out from the deep blue wall behind them, advancing even further the proposal of dozing away in a kaleidoscopic dream. Above the bulky bed (the size of which appeared even larger, in the minuscule room), a chromatic dance of red shades decorated the cobalt tinted wall: a wide number of psychedelic posters, adorned with writings and evocative images, depicted the spirituality that characterised her, and outlined the desire for exotic travels that she has been preserving deep within her mind for many years. A timid, bluish, pale light peeped from a window to his left, and it almost instantly blended with the diffuse lighting that was flooding the room, coming from the numerous festive lights tingling and hanging from the ceiling, fixed from wall to wall and around the window. Slightly to the left of it, a night table held her computer and, behind it, stood an enigmatic little jewel box embellished with an exotic bas relief. Almost concealed, lying on the floor under the bedside stand, a pile of books and magazines served as emergency provisions for her thirst of knowledge. A hazy rock’n’roll song about mermaids, echoing directly from the sixties, came from an unidentified source, hinting to the musical spiced taste she enjoyed.

Prompt: Certainly, I can help you outline an Agatha Christie-style mystery novel in English. Here is a brief plot summary: **Title: \"The Lost Heir\"** **Plot Summary:** The story unfolds in an ancient and dignified estate named Wendell Manor. The wealthy patriarch, Edwin Wendell, suddenly passes away. His will reveals a shocking secret – the heir to the estate is not a member of the family but one of the servants within the manor. As relationships among the residents of the manor become more complex, unusual events begin to occur. A governess goes missing, and the contest for inheritance within the manor intensifies. Lucius Pierce, the manor's butler, investigates the matter. He is a shrewd and reticent individual with secrets of his own. In the process of searching for the missing governess, a series of clues surface, unveiling some previously unknown facts about Edwin Wendell's life. Each person in the manor has a motive, and it seems everyone is concealing something. Lucius Pierce embarks on the investigation, meticulously unraveling the puzzle until finally exposing the truth. The novel will engage readers with twists, misdirection, and intricate family dynamics, leading to an unexpected conclusion. **Character Profiles:** 1. **Edwin Wendell:** Wealthy patriarch, owner of the manor, deceased. 2. **Lucius Pierce:** Manor's butler, astute and enigmatic. 3. **Missing Governess:** A mysterious character whose disappearance triggers the events of the story. 4. **Family Members:** Including Edwin's children and other relatives, each with their own motives and secrets. This plot summary provides a starting point, and you can add more details and twists as needed. Agatha Christie's works are known for intricate plots and surprising conclusions, so feel free to incorporate these elements into your novel. I hope this outline inspires your mystery novel!

Prompt: Certainly, I can help you outline an Agatha Christie-style mystery novel in English. Here is a brief plot summary: **Title: \"The Lost Heir\"** **Plot Summary:** The story unfolds in an ancient and dignified estate named Wendell Manor. The wealthy patriarch, Edwin Wendell, suddenly passes away. His will reveals a shocking secret – the heir to the estate is not a member of the family but one of the servants within the manor. As relationships among the residents of the manor become more complex, unusual events begin to occur. A governess goes missing, and the contest for inheritance within the manor intensifies. Lucius Pierce, the manor's butler, investigates the matter. He is a shrewd and reticent individual with secrets of his own. In the process of searching for the missing governess, a series of clues surface, unveiling some previously unknown facts about Edwin Wendell's life. Each person in the manor has a motive, and it seems everyone is concealing something. Lucius Pierce embarks on the investigation, meticulously unraveling the puzzle until finally exposing the truth. The novel will engage readers with twists, misdirection, and intricate family dynamics, leading to an unexpected conclusion. **Character Profiles:** 1. **Edwin Wendell:** Wealthy patriarch, owner of the manor, deceased. 2. **Lucius Pierce:** Manor's butler, astute and enigmatic. 3. **Missing Governess:** A mysterious character whose disappearance triggers the events of the story. 4. **Family Members:** Including Edwin's children and other relatives, each with their own motives and secrets. This plot summary provides a starting point, and you can add more details and twists as needed. Agatha Christie's works are known for intricate plots and surprising conclusions, so feel free to incorporate these elements into your novel. I hope this outline inspires your mystery novel!

Prompt: an image described by: I am—yet what I am none cares or knows; My friends forsake me like a memory lost: I am the self-consumer of my woes— They rise and vanish in oblivious host, Like shadows in love’s frenzied stifled throes And yet I am, and live …

Prompt: It was March 1969. When the spring-like days arrived, I impatiently walked along the still sticky road into the country grove. The grove greeted me with the melodious murmur of a stream, rapidly rushing towards a ravine lost in the thicket of bushes and trees. The muddy stream, crashing into the polluted rubble of snow, exposed its lower clean layers, and in this snow-white rim began to look surprisingly elegant

Prompt: Love, grief, split emotions, contrasting feelings, emotional duality, heart's paradox, love's warmth, grief's shadow, juxtaposed sentiments, emotional spectrum, tears and smiles, joyous sorrow, melancholy bliss, tender ache, bittersweet emotions, conflicted heart, opposing feelings, dual essence, emotional divide, love's embrace, grieving soul, intimate sorrow, passionate mourning, shared heartache, contrasting expressions, emotional dichotomy, blended sentiments, love-grief fusion, heart's intersection, mixed emotions, dual resonance, conflicting vibes, emotional intersection, love's radiance, grief's depths, split feelings, contrasting moods, emotional harmony, bittersweet fusion, dual sentiments, love and sorrow, heart's contradiction, emotional juncture, contrasting states, blended affections, split soul, love-grief canvas, emotional chiaroscuro, heart's division, dual emotional narrative

Prompt: Love, grief, split emotions, contrasting feelings, emotional duality, heart's paradox, love's warmth, grief's shadow, juxtaposed sentiments, emotional spectrum, tears and smiles, joyous sorrow, melancholy bliss, tender ache, bittersweet emotions, conflicted heart, opposing feelings, dual essence, emotional divide, love's embrace, grieving soul, intimate sorrow, passionate mourning, shared heartache, contrasting expressions, emotional dichotomy, blended sentiments, love-grief fusion, heart's intersection, mixed emotions, dual resonance, conflicting vibes, emotional intersection, love's radiance, grief's depths, split feelings, contrasting moods, emotional harmony, bittersweet fusion, dual sentiments, love and sorrow, heart's contradiction, emotional juncture, contrasting states, blended affections, split soul, love-grief canvas, emotional chiaroscuro, heart's division, dual emotional narrative

Prompt: Love, grief, split emotions, contrasting feelings, emotional duality, heart's paradox, love's warmth, grief's shadow, juxtaposed sentiments, emotional spectrum, tears and smiles, joyous sorrow, melancholy bliss, tender ache, bittersweet emotions, conflicted heart, opposing feelings, dual essence, emotional divide, love's embrace, grieving soul, intimate sorrow, passionate mourning, shared heartache, contrasting expressions, emotional dichotomy, blended sentiments, love-grief fusion, heart's intersection, mixed emotions, dual resonance, conflicting vibes, emotional intersection, love's radiance, grief's depths, split feelings, contrasting moods, emotional harmony, bittersweet fusion, dual sentiments, love and sorrow, heart's contradiction, emotional juncture, contrasting states, blended affections, split soul, love-grief canvas, emotional chiaroscuro, heart's division, dual emotional narrative

Prompt: concept album cover, photo Realistic, masutepiece, Realistic, High contrast, hyper Detailed, Best Quality, 超A high resolution, photo Realistic, High resolution, Detailed, Raw photo, Kyoko Kirigiri, Long hair, Purple hair, Side braid, Blunt bangs, Hair Ribbon, a black ribbon, High collar, Brown tie, Black Motorcycle Jacket, Long sleeves, Black Gloves, Black mini skirt, Pleated skirt,(( Black long boots)), (((Full Shot))), Danganronpa \\(Series\\), Street, Full Shot, Looking at Viewer, White shirt, Woman, (((From below))), Busy city, foreshortening, (Pose Seductive), Looking at Viewer, mad, (eyecontact), japanaese girl,

Style: Craft Clay

Prompt: Create a minimalistic and soft-colored 3D rendering of an astronaut floating serenely in space, inspired by Blender's subtle aesthetics. The astronaut's suit should be rendered in pastel hues, with smooth contours and a matte texture for a modern and stylized appearance. Surrounding the astronaut, depict a series of Bitcoins in an assortment of soft, muted metallic tones, like gold, silver, and pale bronze, gently illuminated by a diffuse light source to enhance the tender color palette. They should be placed in a zero-gravity dance around the astronaut, but keep the design simple and the forms abstract. The background should be a white. The overall lighting should be subtle and diffuse, with no harsh shadows or bright highlights, to evoke a sense of tranquility and minimalism

Style: 3D Model

Prompt: Since Aurelius was 12 years old, he determined to become a philosopher. He was full of desire for philosophy, but felt physically and mentally exhausted from government affairs. On one side is the ideal he loves, and on the other side is the responsibility he has to bear. Aurelius is in a dilemma and is very painful. Gradually, he realized in reflection that since he could not change the reality, he might as well change his own perception.

Prompt: Since Aurelius was 12 years old, he determined to become a philosopher. He was full of desire for philosophy, but felt physically and mentally exhausted from government affairs. On one side is the ideal he loves, and on the other side is the responsibility he has to bear. Aurelius is in a dilemma and is very painful. Gradually, he realized in reflection that since he could not change the reality, he might as well change his own perception.

Prompt: Beautiful facade, hidden chaos, contrasting views; serene exterior, impending disaster, dual perspectives; picturesque scene, ominous turmoil, opposite impressions; idyllic surface, impending doom, contrasting perceptions; deceptive beauty, impending havoc, dual outlook; tranquil appearance, impending wreckage, conflicting impressions; scenic charm, impending chaos, dual perspectives; contrasting beauty, imminent destruction, conflicting views

Prompt: This night went well for me, I escaped from that woman's window just in time. Of course I would have told the husband that I was just keeping his lady company while he was busy spending his time in the town tavern. But I don't think he would have thanked me for my service to his better half. I always prefer women with whom I can agree on a price. This is why they know me as Shadow, the Prince of Thieves and Brothels

Prompt: Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Lily. Every Christmas, she eagerly awaited the arrival of Santa Claus, believing he would bring her surprising gifts. However, this year seemed a bit different. Lily's belief in Santa Claus was wavering; she began to doubt if Santa Claus truly existed. On Christmas Eve, Lily sat by the window, gazing at the starry sky. Suddenly, she heard a faint sound coming from the yard downstairs. Rushing down, she opened the door to find a chubby old man quietly placing a bag of gifts. Lily stared at him in astonishment, and as he turned, he revealed a familiar smile. \"Are you Lily?\" Santa Claus asked, smiling warmly. Lily nodded, filled with joy. He began recounting stories from Lily's childhood, surprising her with his knowledge of her life. \"I've been waiting for you!\" Lily exclaimed, moved. Santa Claus chuckled, \"Sometimes, we need to rediscover our beliefs within. Even if you can't always see me, my blessings and love are always there.\" That night, Santa Claus and Lily shared heartwarming moments, singing songs and sharing stories. Lily regained her belief in the magic of Santa Claus, understanding that even when unseen, belief in the heart remains the most important

Prompt: 1. Small delicacies and small efforts in a simple life 2. Look directly at the emotion, even feel it, embrace it 3. In a hurried and hectic life, a cup of warm tea can soothe people’s hearts. 4. Mood changes brought by seasons 5. The meaning or gain of travel

Prompt: \"The Caspar David Friedrich Sea of Ice delicately yields to the enchanting embrace of flickering flames, unveiling a landscape that was once imprisoned in frozen stillness. Now, as the ice surrenders, every intricate detail of the scenery succumbs to the mystical and irresistible tendrils of witchcraft. The hues, reminiscent of Gustave Doré's vibrant illustrations, dance in a mesmerizing display, transforming the scene into a bewitching spectacle of ethereal metamorphosis.

Prompt: Melancholy light mingles murky mosaics of memories through moldering mansions, materials morphing amongst the miasma. (john singleton copley, camille corot, francisco goya, max klinger, john atkinson grimshaw)

Prompt: Disheveled hair, sweaty, smiling, drunken, and With a torn shirt, singing, the jug in hand Narcissus loudly laments, on his lips, alas, alas! Last night at midnight, came and sat right by my bed-stand Brought his head next to my ears, with a sad song Said, O my old lover, you are still in dreamland The lover who drinks this nocturnal brew Infidel, if not worships the wine's command Go away O hermit, fault not the drunk Our Divine gift from the day that God made sea and land Whatever He poured for us in our cup, we just drank If it was a cheap wine or heavenly brand The smile on the cup's face and Beloved's hair strand Break many who may repent, just as Hafiz falsely planned.

Prompt: Disheveled hair, sweaty, smiling, drunken, and With a torn shirt, singing, the jug in hand Narcissus loudly laments, on his lips, alas, alas! Last night at midnight, came and sat right by my bed-stand Brought his head next to my ears, with a sad song Said, O my old lover, you are still in dreamland The lover who drinks this nocturnal brew Infidel, if not worships the wine's command Go away O hermit, fault not the drunk Our Divine gift from the day that God made sea and land Whatever He poured for us in our cup, we just drank If it was a cheap wine or heavenly brand The smile on the cup's face and Beloved's hair strand Break many who may repent, just as Hafiz falsely planned.