Prompt: once i rose above the noise and confusion just to get a glimps beyond this illusion inset a course for winds of fortune yadda yadda masquerading as a man with a reason my charade is the event of the season and if i claim to be a wise man it surely means that i dont know cast about like a ship on the ocean something about devotion etc etc

Prompt: Woe to you, oh earth and sea For the Devil sends the beast with wrath Because he knows the time is short Let him who hath understanding reckon the number of the beast For it is a human number Its number is six hundred and sixty-six I left alone, my mind was blank I needed time to think To get the memories from my mind What did I see? Can I believe? That what I saw that night was real and not just fantasy? Just what I saw in my old dreams Were they reflections of my warped mind staring back at me? 'Cause in my dreams it's always there The evil face that twists my mind and brings me to despair Night was black, was no use holding back 'Cause I just had to see, was someone watching me? In the mist, dark figures move and twist Was all this for real or just some kind of Hell? Six six six, the number of the beast Hell and fire was spawned to be released Torches blazed and sacred chants were praised As they start to cry, hands held to the sky In the night, the fires are burning bright The ritual has begun, Satan's work is done Six six six, the number of the beast Sacrifice is going on tonight This can't go on, I must inform the law Can this still be real, or just some crazy dream? But I feel drawn towards the chanting hordes Seem to mesmerize, can't avoid their eyes Six six six, the number of the beast Six six six, the one for you and me I'm coming back, I will return And I'll possess your body and I'll make you burn I have the fire, I have the force I have the power to make my evil take its course

Prompt: Torn in timeListen to my words for onceDo you fear?Fear for a broken spell of lustTouched by a mortal sinnerRoar of massive illusion

Prompt: I thought for a long time and was in doubt for a long time, What is there to look at the earth from above; Or does everything flow without order through blindness, And there is no providence from heaven in the entire universe. However, having looked at the harmony of the heavenly lights, Earth, seas and rivers kindness and decency, Change of days, nights, appearance of the moon, He recognized that we were created by divine power.

Prompt: I thought for a long time and was in doubt for a long time, What is there to look at the earth from above; Or does everything flow without order through blindness, And there is no providence from heaven in the entire universe. However, having looked at the harmony of the heavenly lights, Earth, seas and rivers kindness and decency, Change of days, nights, appearance of the moon, He recognized that we were created by divine power.

Prompt: colorful dreamtime mural of (midnight voices of the machine elves, Gods becoming toys), thick earth paint and fractal brushstrokes, psychedelic abstract art, manual pattern painting

Prompt: ....A dream, a dream.He always lives in the hearts of only those who believe in a fairy tale.And Gray sails to his Assol.She is so waiting for him, and this..his heart warms..And a ship is running on the wavesAnd the sea is quietly worshipingLovers have their lighthouse shining.And the scarlet sail is so visible from the shore.And the meaning is this:that Faith is our everything!And miracles are subject to all of usAnd you can take red fabric.And sew your happiness with your hands.

Prompt: ....A dream, a dream.He always lives in the hearts of only those who believe in a fairy tale.And Gray sails to his Assol.She is so waiting for him, and this..his heart warms..And a ship is running on the wavesAnd the sea is quietly worshipingLovers have their lighthouse shining.And the scarlet sail is so visible from the shore.And the meaning is this:that Faith is our everything!And miracles are subject to all of usAnd you can take red fabric.And sew your happiness with your hands.

Prompt: ....A dream, a dream.He always lives in the hearts of only those who believe in a fairy tale.And Gray sails to his Assol.She is so waiting for him, and this..his heart warms..And a ship is running on the wavesAnd the sea is quietly worshipingLovers have their lighthouse shining.And the scarlet sail is so visible from the shore.And the meaning is this:that Faith is our everything!And miracles are subject to all of usAnd you can take red fabric.And sew your happiness with your hands.

Prompt: ....A dream, a dream.He always lives in the hearts of only those who believe in a fairy tale.And Gray sails to his Assol.She is so waiting for him, and this..his heart warms..And a ship is running on the wavesAnd the sea is quietly worshipingLovers have their lighthouse shining.And the scarlet sail is so visible from the shore.And the meaning is this:that Faith is our everything!And miracles are subject to all of usAnd you can take red fabric.And sew your happiness with your hands.

Prompt: Though the anthropic combustive projectiles elicit qualities of juvenescent charm, their propensity for stelliferous voyage betokens a temerarious audacity unbecoming of terrestrial jejunity.

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: The bulbul's care is naught but the rose is his mate dear The rose's care is naught but to bring grace to her cheer Not all lure is what brings the lover's heart to its fall Master is he who bears compassion to his thrall. Now comes the time when blood gushes into the ruby's heart For the shard hath shattered its value and worth in the mart. The bulbul's power of speech came from the rose's boon Or his beak would be devoid of all this song and tune O thou who in the street of our Love tread Be careful; or his wall may shatter thy head The traveler is accompanied by a hundredfold soul Wherever he is, health and well-being be his dole O heart! Though the dice of health to thee was cast Sweet is the lot of Love. Cling to it hard and fast Intoxicated, the Sufi wore his hat askew Two more goglets, aslant his turban flew To the sight of thee the heart of Hafiz had been inclined It is now cherished with union. Put this torment behind.

Prompt: wise man with guiding hands, whose eyes shine in darkness, please take me to where i belong, listen to my phrase of wisdom, open your eyes to the vision of life, your image of purity shows,

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: 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: 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: Everything on the outside is just a projection of one's inner self. If the heart is still, any external noise will not cause waves in the inner lake. Therefore, a true wise man does not stay away from the hustle and bustle of cars and horses, but builds fences and grows chrysanthemums in his heart. The real strong person is not to stay away from the reality of suffering, but to cultivate inner meditation.

Prompt: My Father Was Black, My Mother Was DeckerBelieve Me My Friend, It Doesn't Get Any BetterThan Rack And Pinion Reasoning, Add A Little SeasoningCook At Ninety Eight Point Six DegreesLet Me Be The Bull, And You Be The PenSuch An Easy Way To Glorify SinIf I Am A Horse, You're A Venus In SpursEverything I Have Is Yours, So Take ItI Come Fully Loaded With An Option To BuyI've Got A Stick Shift Disposition And A Four Wheel MindI'll Give You Endless Mileage And Unlimited SpeedTotal Satisfaction Absolutely GuaranteedTurbo Boost Libido And Passive RestraintsAnd As Of Yet I Haven't Heard Even A Single ComplaintI've Got The Tools Of The Trade And A Fuel Injected HeartEfficiency Is Beautiful, Efficiency Is Art

Prompt: From the moment I understood the weakness of my flesh, it disgusted me. I craved the strength and certainty of steel. I aspired to the purity of the Blessed Machine. Your kind cling to your flesh, as though it will not decay and fail you. One day the crude biomass you call the temple will wither, and you will beg my kind to save you. But I am already saved, for the Machine is immortal… Even in death I serve the Omnissiah.

Prompt: Torn in time, Listen to my words for once, Do you fear?, Fear for a broken spell of lust, Touched by a mortal sinner, Roar of massive illusion,

Prompt: By all means I should understand, But I cannot seem to keep my hands On that truth that shall be praised, As the one to let us be saved. Dear God, fundamental truth may be granted, But can't my thought be counted? As a right in this world, Where objectivity left me no choice But to blend in such a foist.

Prompt: an image described by:All Nature is taught in radiant ways to move, All beings are in myself embraced. O fiery boundless Heart of joy and love, How art thou beating in a mortal’s breast ! It is Thy rapture flaming through my nerves And all my cells and atoms thrill with Thee ; My body thy vessel is and only serves As a living wine-cup of Thy ecstasy.

Prompt: Justification, The Means Are The EndDoctrine And Dogma, I Will Not RelentThis World A Garden In Need Of Such WeedingThis World A Minefield In Need Of Such SweepingThis Ministration Without Full ConsentFire And Brimstone, I Will Not RelentJust As All Good Things Must Come To An End I Will Administer As I See Fit

Prompt: Radiantly emerging, a rose-limned being floats amid cascading blossoms fringing alabaster avenues, nacre petals spilling quicksilver verses. Lithe as nebulae, ambrosial hymns flush alabaster flesh with indigo lament, chronicling sundered ages from citadels carved in moonlight. Delicate silks shed, relinquishing etherial memories upon the edge of dreaming. (Imogen Cunningham, Claude Cahun, Dove)

Negative: nudity

Prompt: Through the shadowed veil of life's relentless trials, we find our greatest strength. In the heart of darkness, where despair whispers its coldest tale, there we stand unyielding, conquering not the world, but the abyss within ourselves

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: Even the closest of hearts, if not nurtured with care, will drift apart, turning into isolated islands. In the realm of emotions, there is no casual persistence, only deliberate maintenance.

Prompt: The wise can simplify and clarify complex matters. Conversely, some intentionally create trouble, making easy things difficult and resulting in complications. Initially, one might attribute it to foolishness, but now I realize there is another intention behind it. However, the thoughts of people are subtle and difficult to thoroughly fathom.

Prompt: /imagine \"Dear A\u0026T, Dear A\u0026T, a monument indeed Around thy base with grateful hearts behold thy students kneel We bless the power that gave thee birth to help us in our need We’ll ever strive while here on earth All loyalty to yield With joy, with joy, dear A\u0026T, thy students turn from thee To spread thy trophies year by year From Dare to Cherokee. Dear A\u0026T, Dear A\u0026T, the signet thou shalt be Set by our great old commonwealth, proud boaster of the free She'd have the record of her worth on granite not inscribed Nay, let the children of her birth proclaim it by their lives Dear A\u0026T, Dear A\u0026T, henceforth our aim shall be By precepts wise and deeds more sure to bless the State through thee The arts of industry to wield against an idle foe A harvest rich from ripened fields or what thy students sow.\", blue and gold

Prompt: /imagine \"Dear A\u0026T, Dear A\u0026T, a monument indeed Around thy base with grateful hearts behold thy students kneel We bless the power that gave thee birth to help us in our need We’ll ever strive while here on earth All loyalty to yield With joy, with joy, dear A\u0026T, thy students turn from thee To spread thy trophies year by year From Dare to Cherokee. Dear A\u0026T, Dear A\u0026T, the signet thou shalt be Set by our great old commonwealth, proud boaster of the free She'd have the record of her worth on granite not inscribed Nay, let the children of her birth proclaim it by their lives Dear A\u0026T, Dear A\u0026T, henceforth our aim shall be By precepts wise and deeds more sure to bless the State through thee The arts of industry to wield against an idle foe A harvest rich from ripened fields or what thy students sow.\", blue and gold, (black people: 1.7)

Prompt: make an image of these lyrics : A state of crisis is declared Whatever we say, whatever we do We get bogged down, we fade away, in the face of the threat FACE OF THE THREAT Who is lounging and little by little becomes clearer Like a punch in the gum From nuclear accidents to open-air platforms, We have always had the art and the way To slowly smear our atmosphere Take a look around you Can you tell me what you see there? Can you tell me what you're breathing? Can you tell me what that inspires you? No pain no fear No clever thing from the hate My city's on fire Cholera miasma Opening up to the ashes, walking through the dark Look around you No pain no fear What do you seek in my head I never had a little chance Can we really talk about the future? The worst is yet to come A max in the gore Let's stop making circus faces at our kids and making them believe it. That tomorrow everything will be better, Our world is a bomb, a bomb, between every minute, every second, the gong of slaughter resonates

Prompt: On the vast sea, a ship was sailing slowly, and a person was looking sideways at the sea. The wind blew his hair, covering half of his face, only revealing his eyes

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: 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: \u003c@975600750854017074\u003e's DreamPrompt: `The last cloud of the scattered storm!You are rushing alone through the clear azure,You cast a sad shadow alone,You're the only one saddening a jubilant day.You've been hugging the sky recently,And the lightning wrapped around you menacingly;And you were making mysterious thunderAnd she watered the greedy earth with rain.That's enough, hide yourself! The time has passed,The earth was refreshed, and the storm passed,And the wind, caressing the leaves of the trees,The heavens are chasing you from the calmed ones.`

Prompt: Dances sunlight, carves pathways, weaves dreams, ignites fires, paints horizons, orchestrates mornings, sculpts silhouettes, harvests hope, captains adventures, spins tales, nurtures blooms, forges destinies, charts stars, kindles laughter, anchors tempests, composes symphonies, crafts wonders, pilots reveries, engineers bridges, blossoms fiercely.

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: 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: I will feel to the exact extent that I coincide with meaning, to which it ceases to be situated in the objective world and to which it means nothing to me.

Prompt: \"Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less gone?\"

Prompt: Thy pitiful nescience, thy craven wallowing in a maelstrom of contingent apparitions, betokens a terror of thine own untapped apperceptions!

Prompt: Concerning storms of wayward thoughts within me churn as I try to grasp at uncertainty that I can't dispel, dissect, or discern.

Prompt: an image described by: No more my heart shall sob or grieve. My days and nights dissolve in God’s own Light. Above the toil of life my soul Is a Bird of Fire winging the Infinite.

Prompt: By surreptitiously mimicking the target's behaviors, one risks not only manipulating emotions but also inadvertently steering the relationship into treacherous waters The false sense of connection crafted through mirroring can lead to a distorted reality, where genuine feelings become entangled with orchestrated actions

Prompt: There are no Kings in this world. Crushed crowns fade to soil and dirt.Crumbling castles wander like spurned lovers,into the fast, and forgiving sea.Law is snuffed by a lithesome handthat leans from out the voiceless wind.Nature waits, with roving eye,to welcome back the bones, at last,of the madness that is man.

Prompt: There are no Kings in this world. Crushed crowns fade to soil and dirt.Crumbling castles wander like spurned lovers,into the fast, and forgiving sea.Law is snuffed by a lithesome handthat leans from out the voiceless wind.Nature waits, with roving eye,to welcome back the bones, at last,of the madness that is man.

Prompt: \"Envision an infinite deity, a colossal entity beyond the measure of cosmic infinitude. Picture this incomprehensible force, its form transcending the very concept of magnitude, with muscles forged from the primal essence of existence itself, pulsating with an infinite, resplendent radiance that eclipses the entirety of creation. Their unfathomable silhouette spans across multiverses, effortlessly wielding the fundamental forces that weave the tapestry of realities. Capture this insurmountable force amidst the cosmic symphony, a convergence of cosmic energies dancing in eternal reverence around their boundless form. Witness as they effortlessly traverse the cosmic web, manipulating cosmic strings with a mere whisper. Envision their armor, a manifestation of cosmic singularities, emitting an iridescent luminescence that illuminates the birth and demise of universes. Imagine the backdrop amidst the cosmic genesis, where the birth of new dimensions submits to their omnipotence, and cosmic entities pay homage to their eternal sovereignty. Their essence transcends the very notion of existence, an embodiment of infinite omnipotence that dictates the cosmic orchestra effortlessly, an omnipresent force beyond the comprehension of any cosmic continuum.\"