Prompt: Yes, I kissed and knew The traces of your sweet lips, I gave my lips to my lips, There is no sin here. From kissing lips Just ale and more tender. Why were they so rude Words about me
Prompt: Yes, I kissed and knew The traces of your sweet lips, I gave my lips to my lips, There is no sin here. From kissing lips Just ale and more tender. Why were they so rude Words about me
Prompt: Sending off a glancing kiss, to those who claim they know; Below the streets that steam and hiss, the devil's in his hole
Prompt: lesbian women kissing, As their lips met, it felt like a soft embrace of affection, a gentle dance between two souls.
Prompt: someday you came to me and I knew you were the one. You were the one i was dreaming all my life. When is dark you are my light
Prompt: In 1937, a scene capturing the rear view of Amelia Earhart attempting communication from the cockpit of the airplane, with the fuel gauge visible, amidst a storm with lightning and thick storm clouds, indicating worsening weather conditions.
Style: Cinematic
Prompt: I got a taste of love in a simple way And if you need to know, while I'm still standing, you just fade away
Prompt: If you say, I love you, then you have already fallen in love with language, which is already a form of break up and infidelity.
Prompt: A woman with her mouth wide open, with the following writings in her mouth: 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: You and I are two different things One cloud's tears of water Let's break on the ground with rhinestones We'll scatter around and around... Endless downward desire Rewarded by the sun's gaze Brings joy to the grass You and I will be placed next to each other...
Prompt: Close my eyesShe's somehow closer nowSoftly smile, I know she must be kindWhen I look in her eyesShe goes with me to a blossom world
Prompt: It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of Annabel Lee; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me. I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea, But we loved with a love that was more than love— I and my Annabel Lee— With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago, In this kingdom by the sea, A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling My beautiful Annabel Lee; So that her highborn kinsmen came And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulchre In this kingdom by the sea. The angels, not half so happy in Heaven, Went envying her and me— Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea) That the wind came out of the cloud by night, Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee. But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we— Of many far wiser than we— And neither the angels in Heaven above Nor the demons down under the sea Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride, In her sepulchre there by the sea— In her tomb by the sounding sea.
Prompt: It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of Annabel Lee; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me. I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea, But we loved with a love that was more than love— I and my Annabel Lee— With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago, In this kingdom by the sea, A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling My beautiful Annabel Lee; So that her highborn kinsmen came And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulchre In this kingdom by the sea. The angels, not half so happy in Heaven, Went envying her and me— Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea) That the wind came out of the cloud by night, Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee. But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we— Of many far wiser than we— And neither the angels in Heaven above Nor the demons down under the sea Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride, In her sepulchre there by the sea— In her tomb by the sounding sea. Style: Photograph
Prompt: you hope lies in your spark, like candles in the dark, guide me with your heart, you caught me by surprise, blink of your eyes, light the colour in the sky
Prompt: My heart, I never be, I never see, I never know Oh, heart, and then it falls, and then I fall, and then I know
Prompt: Lusterless aluminides flaked like spent monsoons from high cheek and browline as war-wear graven deep by ionic scour sang the bittersweet ballads of vanished battles across her lovely, long-suffering face.
Negative: nudity
Prompt: The Moving Finger writes, and, having writ, Moves on; nor all your Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it. persian male poet
Prompt: The Moving Finger writes, and, having writ, Moves on; nor all your Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it. persian male poet
Prompt: show the tongue without it being too weird for people to look at, convey the mesage of the role that a tongue plays in convincing other people, also show how the tonque is sharper than the sharpest of katanas
Prompt: Sweet smell, nectared flowers, bursting……..lightspeed senses, happiness coursing with existence, delicately embracing the smooth flowing lava from volcanic eruptions of thought, deep into the sky of the complicated mind of shimmering stars. This is the meaning of life……….the awakening of sultry depression forced into the world, begging on its bloody knees, just to be abandoned, intrigued to discover the separate but not dissimilar evolution of spirit and generation into never ending flowers of hope, destiny, spirituality, acceptance and love……..floating softly on a fantasy, living fast in the ecstasy, only now able to express, only now able to be and only now able to process………...what was and is. Ever so slowly dragging my feet through the soft golden sands made from tired souls metamorphosing into the bliss of running free in strides of light, bounding through understanding and living expression. The blinding light of all seeps into our ears and our minds, life and existence forced to fuse in the ultimate loneliness of your unknown thoughts………..taking over all emotion, bringing colour to a monochromic cesspool of dark thoughts.What is it that this means…..a slow lesson….the forbidden key…..forgiveness, understanding and love is all we need.
Prompt: I'm treading water, I need to sleep a while. My lamb and martyr, you look so precious. Won't you come a bit closer, close enough so I can smell you. I need you to feel this, I can't stand to burn too long. Released in this sodomy. For one sweet moment I am whole.
Prompt: A grain of sand like in sea waves, How small is the spark in the eternal ice, Like fine dust in a strong whirlwind, In a fire as fierce as a feather, So I am deep in this abyss, I'm lost, tired of thoughts
Prompt: generate an image for a YouTube channel that deals with dark love and psychology trick with the name Obsidian Hearts engraved on the picture
Prompt: In a secluded chamber, a figure with twilight-woven hair is surrounded by a dance of bioluminescent lilies, conceptualized by Alan Lee and brought to life with the detailed realism of Craig Mullins. John Howe's dynamic lighting casts dramatic shadows, creating a ballet of color and form. (subterranean symphony:1.1)
Negative: inertia, starkness, simplicity.
Prompt: A page written \"i won't die for love but ever since i met you, you could have my heart and i'd break it for you\"
Prompt: Pour the poison of her poison, tell her that she will drink without conscience, let her know that this is impossible, let her know that this is all a work, this is a work she created
Prompt: My heart is dull and my eyes are wavering I was alone in this world All I knew of spring was falling petals Every year, I was treated coldly
Prompt: Imagine an intricate digital collage showcasing a customizable humanoid figure at its center. This figure stands poised, with arms outstretched, symbolizing its potential for change. Surrounding it are a myriad of objects hovering around: scuba gear emitting bubbles, a jetpack with flames shooting out, and climbing hooks firmly anchored to a wall-like backdrop. Each object appears as if it's magnetically attracted to the humanoid, highlighting their transformative power. This dynamic scene captures the essence of adaptability and endless shapeshifting, reminiscent of the player's capabilities in games like Minecraft/Terraria.
Style: Isometric
Prompt: Lip Gloss and Black,(Bleeding Mascara),my sanity on the funeral pyre,demonology and heartache,the crimson,rememberance ballad,corseting,dilated,tulips are better,a vampire's lament,a song for the optimists,This Flesh a Tomb,FIVE VICODIN chased with a shot of clarity,
Prompt: Her face is filled with soft lines and natural harmony. Her skin is as white as snow, smooth and delicate, as if it were a perfect canvas. Her lips are soft and full, slightly upturned, giving a gentle impression. Her smile is sweet and charming, able to melt anyone's heart
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: Let not my love be call'd idolatry, Nor my beloved as an idol show, Since all alike my songs and praises be To one, of one, still such, and ever so. Kind is my love to-day, to-morrow kind, Still constant in a wondrous excellence;
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
