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Prompt: Begin the day with a friendly voice A companion unobtrusive Plays that song that's so elusive And the magic music makes your morning mood Off on your way, hit the open road There is magic at your fingers For the spirit ever lingers Undemanding contact in your happy solitude Invisible airwaves crackle with life Bright antenna bristle with the energy Emotional feedback on a timeless wavelength Bearing a gift beyond price, almost free All this machinery making modern music Can still be open-hearted Not so coldly charted, it's really just a question Of your honesty, yeah, your honesty One likes to believe in the freedom of music But glittering prizes and endless compromises Shatter the illusion of integrity, yeah Invisible airwaves crackle with life Bright antenna bristle with the energy Emotional feedback on timeless wavelength Bearing a gift beyond price, almost free For the words of the profits Were written on the studio wall Concert hall And echoes with the sound Of salesmen Of salesmen Of salesmen
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pocketful of anguirus

Model: DreamShaper XL1.0

Prompt:

Begin the day with a friendly voice A companion unobtrusive Plays that song that's so elusive And...Show more
Scale: 7
Steps: 25
Seed: 1709096161
Width: 1024
Height: 1024
Sampler: DPM++ 2M SDE Karras

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Prompt: When the Cymbal Rang I spoke with reason, not with love— a cold intention dressed as light. The cymbal rang, hollow and proud, and the silence that followed was louder than sound. I stood beneath an open sky, but the sky fell dark. Not in fear— in awe. The trees stood still, and even the wind held its breath as the veil between worlds unfolded. I was not lost. I was unmade. Emptied of striving, stripped of solving, standing at the edge of vastness that needed no fixing. And there— in the great nothing, I saw Everything. No voice. No light. Only glory, infinite and quiet, pressed into the fabric of the void. I had tried to be good. To be right. To choose what made sense. But grace is not earned by clean intentions. It simply comes— when heaven decides it is time. And I— the clanging cymbal— was silenced by the soundless song of God.
Prompt: Fade to black