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Model: Stable Diffusion
Width: 4096
Height: 4096

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Prompt:
Prompt: tree with door, in the style of William Morris, moonlit flowers, highres, fantasy, ethereal lighting, detailed nature, enchanting atmosphere, glowing flora, dreamlike, surreal, whimsical, mystical setting, fairytale, vibrant colors, soft moonlight, illustration, photograph, blue and orange colors
Prompt: Eerie black and gold flora under a strange sky of milk white in the style of Beksinski
Prompt: painting of: De Profundis
It is a stubble field, where a black rain is falling.
It is a brown tree, that stands alone.
It is a hissing wind, that encircles empty houses.
How melancholy the evening is.
A while later,
The soft orphan garners the sparse ears of corn.
Her eyes graze, round and golden, in the twilight
And her womb awaits the heavenly bridegroom.
On the way home
The shepherd found the sweet body
Decayed in a bush of thorns.
I am a shadow far from darkening villages.
I drank the silence of God
Out of the stream in the trees.
Cold metal walks on my forehead.
Spiders search for my heart.
It is a light that goes out in my mouth.
At night, I found myself on a pasture,
Covered with rubbish and the dust of stars.
In a hazel thicket
Angels of crystal rang out once more.
Prompt: Abstract geometric tree pattern on a textured background, high contrast, intricate details, digital art, monochromatic, high quality, professional, geometric, detailed texture, abstract, black and white, artistic, textured background
Prompt: Song of Torva

There’s a place where the oceans run
Great rivers of sorrow flow
Where no longer hear we singing
The song of the weeping widow
Her hands bound upon an oaken tree
Where the voice of the Dark Lights sigh
She fell for the sake of the ones she loved
And her songs faded into night

Oh, Come ye not to Torvalore,
Come ye not from Ulfer’s side
And come ye not from Aurvandil
Where Imelda’s spirit lies

There’s a place where the water’s writhing
Trapped in the blue mist glow
Where now we find no answer
In the land where sisters go
There oaken bound by mortal breed
Where the voice of Nayda cries
Our sisters fall silent alone
In the land where the siren hides

Oh, Go ye not to Torvalore
Go ye not to Ulfer’s side
And go ye not to Aurvandil
Where Imelda’s spirit hides
Prompt: Ethel Reed illustration of starry sky and elven trees tattoos
Prompt: A soul haunts for the living