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: I'm sitting behind bars in a damp dungeon. A young eagle raised in captivity, My sad comrade, flapping his wing, Bloody food is pecking under the window,

Prompt: I'm sitting behind bars in a damp dungeon. A young eagle raised in captivity, My sad comrade, flapping his wing, Bloody food is pecking under the window,

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: The prisoner lay with his face towards us, in a very deep sleep, breathing slowly and heavily. He was a middle-sized man, coarsely clad as became his calling, with a coloured shirt protruding through the rent in his tattered coat. He was, as the inspector had said, extremely dirty, but the grime which covered his face could not conceal its repulsive ugliness. A broad wheal from an old scar ran right across it from eye to chin, and by its contraction had turned up one side of the upper lip, so that three teeth were exposed in a perpetual snarl. A shock of very bright red hair grew low over his eyes and forehead.

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: I'm watching the flicker game According to the minting of dark bronzes And I don’t hear any admonitions, What does the old priest whisper to me

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: The ray of the golden sun of darkness was hidden by a veil,And suddenly there was a wall between us again.A-a-a-a-a-a-a-aThe night will pass, the morning will be clear,I know happiness awaits you and me,The night will pass, the rainy season will pass,The sun will rise, the sun will rise.The birds stopped singing, the starlight touched the roofs,In the hour of sadness and sorrow, you will hear my voice.A-a-a-a-a-a-a-a

Prompt: The ray of the golden sun of darkness was hidden by a veil,And suddenly there was a wall between us again.A-a-a-a-a-a-a-aThe night will pass, the morning will be clear,I know happiness awaits you and me,The night will pass, the rainy season will pass,The sun will rise, the sun will rise.The birds stopped singing, the starlight touched the roofs,In the hour of sadness and sorrow, you will hear my voice.A-a-a-a-a-a-a-a

Prompt: The ray of the golden sun of darkness was hidden by a veil,And suddenly there was a wall between us again.A-a-a-a-a-a-a-aThe night will pass, the morning will be clear,I know happiness awaits you and me,The night will pass, the rainy season will pass,The sun will rise, the sun will rise.

Prompt: The ray of the golden sun of darkness was hidden by a veil,And suddenly there was a wall between us again.A-a-a-a-a-a-a-aThe night will pass, the morning will be clear,I know happiness awaits you and me,The night will pass, the rainy season will pass,The sun will rise, the sun will rise.

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: ...---... red red white dark cabaret style best quality, ultra high res, full body in frame, photorealistic, ultra detailed face and body,a 25-year-old woman in a long leather coat, arms spread to the sides, dynamic pose

Prompt: When I was a child, a girl died in the town. On the day of the burial, someone walking at night heard muffled kicking and punching coming from the new grave. No one believed it. A few years later, when the girl's parents moved the grave, they saw a gruesome scene, the coffin had decayed, the body had rotted, the bedding inside had been torn into strips, the dead man's hair had been yanked down by locks, and the dead man, who had been lying flat, was sitting on the corner of the coffin, with his fingers gouged into the black hole of the skull's eye!

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: she sits in a cage of her emotions, these emotions are like a dark web, narrow and cold, she reaches out of the web, all alone

Prompt: Late at night, crossing the streets of the town and stepping onto the old stone steps leading to the church, the silence along the way broken only by the murmur of the night wind. When they reached the door of the church, there was a tension in the air, and terror

Negative: low quality face, bad art, low quality anatomy, bad proportions, gross proportions, crossed eyes, ugly, bizarre, poorly drawn, poorly drawn face, poorly drawn hands, poorly drawn limbs, poorly drawn fingers, out of frame, body out of frame, deformed, disfigured, mutation, mutated hands, mutated limbs. mutated face, malformed, malformed limbs, extra fingers,

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: The Panther. His vision, from the constantly passing bars, has grown so weary that it cannot hold anything else. It seems to him there are a thousand bars; and behind the bars, no world.

Prompt: Boy, boy with hoodie, half robot, profile picture, Ava, scary face, cyber puk style, Anima style, scary face, red eyes, red mouth

Prompt: Silent Accusations, Stacked sterile casings and decomposed viscera bleach in the burning winds skirting a grid of shallow PETN graves below watchtowers fallen to sand, dataghosts flare mutely amongst bleached skulls incanting vain requiems across the dunes, fragmenting seared disintegrating veiled skulls mutely mime a graveyard shift, Xing Danwen, Jochen Lempert (breathtaking, stunning, uhd, ultradetailed, hyperrealistic, masterpiece)

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: Always felt invisible. No one cared to watch me grow. Spent my life inside a house full of ghosts. And Every night was a nightmare. If I cried I was met with a cold stare. Hated every second in this broken home.

Prompt: Envision an unsettling image of an individual confined within a dimly lit, claustrophobic space, surrounded by towering walls that seem to close in on them. The cold, muted tones intensify the sense of isolation, as the oppressive architecture looms overhead, casting oppressive shadows that engulf any semblance of freedom. The person, visibly distressed, navigates through the narrow confines, struggling against the suffocating atmosphere that symbolizes societal constraints. Harsh, low-angle lighting creates a haunting play of shadows, emphasizing the struggle for independence within the constricting boundaries imposed by a society that thrives on control.

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: “Where are you, where are you, where are you - white carriage?” – A man is screaming in the walls of the toilet. But the walls don’t hear - the pipes are like veins And the cistern is beating like a heartbeat.

Prompt: Inside the darkness within a one-way road, I keep on writing down words in anticipation Even when I know it will only make me feel empty I keep seeking for salvation

Prompt: Lonely figure, rainy window, melancholic lollipop; deserted park, empty swings, forlorn sweetness; tearful gaze, candy wrapper, bittersweet solitude; desolate alley, flickering streetlight, lollipop's solace; abandoned room, muted colors, silent sadness; tear-stained pillow, sugary comfort, lollipop's lonely sweetness; somber reflection, sugary sorrow, solo sweetness

Prompt: Lonely figure, rainy window, melancholic lollipop; deserted park, empty swings, forlorn sweetness; tearful gaze, candy wrapper, bittersweet solitude; desolate alley, flickering streetlight, lollipop's solace; abandoned room, muted colors, silent sadness; tear-stained pillow, sugary comfort, lollipop's lonely sweetness; somber reflection, sugary sorrow, solo sweetness

Prompt: Lonely figure, rainy window, melancholic lollipop; deserted park, empty swings, forlorn sweetness; tearful gaze, candy wrapper, bittersweet solitude; desolate alley, flickering streetlight, lollipop's solace; abandoned room, muted colors, silent sadness; tear-stained pillow, sugary comfort, lollipop's lonely sweetness; somber reflection, sugary sorrow, solo sweetness

Prompt: Lonely figure, rainy window, melancholic lollipop; deserted park, empty swings, forlorn sweetness; tearful gaze, candy wrapper, bittersweet solitude; desolate alley, flickering streetlight, lollipop's solace; abandoned room, muted colors, silent sadness; tear-stained pillow, sugary comfort, lollipop's lonely sweetness; somber reflection, sugary sorrow, solo sweetness

Prompt: I wake up, but not really. My eyes are open, but I cannot move no matter how hard I try. What's that? Above me... It's just...black. Nothing. Empty space. No, it's writhing blackness. Scream. Please voice, scream. No, my voice betrays me. Tied to my own bed like a quadrapalegic. Breathing is hard, like breathing underwater. It hurts. The blackness slithers closer. I want to close my eyes but my eyelids won't work. No... Its inches from my nose. I can smell it's foul stench, like sulfer and brimstone and a hint of rottenness. Why? What does it want? I've been a decent human. I haven't done anything truly dark. I mean, the cat when I was ten but never again. It moves in...swallowing my being... I scream in my head...

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: 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: We venture into the foulest filth of the forlorn frontier, on the furthest fringes of civic corruption where crooked councils conduct clandestine collusions. Cubicles hold captive craven conspirators conjuring depraved deceits against citizens scrounging scraps in this sideshow land. Here nightmare narratives are nurtured in speakeasies swilling abscess absinthe at bowels of municipal machinery.

Negative: nudity

Prompt: On a scary night, there was a telephone in an ancient castle. It was dark and there were spider webs in the castle. Horrible

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: My temple is a forest, and its vault is the sky,He is always with me, and wherever I am,I can wander into my mysterious temple,And in the thicket of the forest to worship the gods.He will heal my soul for free,No need to pay at the entrance for candles,It doesn't matter if it's late or early outside,The doors of the temple are always open to me.There is no silver, precious body kits,Cheap show-offs, expensive Mercedes,But every leaf and every branch,They keep the memory of the wisdom of their ancestors.There is no hypocrisy and lies mixed up here,No one will look at my back with a sneer.My heart is at ease here, and wherever I am,My temple is a forest, and its vault is the sky.

Prompt: My temple is a forest, and its vault is the sky,He is always with me, and wherever I am,I can wander into my mysterious temple,And in the thicket of the forest to worship the gods.He will heal my soul for free,No need to pay at the entrance for candles,It doesn't matter if it's late or early outside,The doors of the temple are always open to me.There is no silver, precious body kits,Cheap show-offs, expensive Mercedes,But every leaf and every branch,They keep the memory of the wisdom of their ancestors.There is no hypocrisy and lies mixed up here,No one will look at my back with a sneer.My heart is at ease here, and wherever I am,My temple is a forest, and its vault is the sky.

Prompt: a portal opening to where I stood transfixed at the eerie sight before me, so strange, so odd, so peculiar, so weird, so bizarre, so eldritch—Gods, mine ocular ducts weren't meant to witness such blasphemous heresy—so indescribable, beyond all possible descriptions, at least in any kind of adjectival way!

Negative: funny

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.