donlaiq
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    typographic art of an ugly, old witch with pointing hat, preparing a magic, multicolor concoction in a burn, black huge pot, revolving with a long, dirty stick. Bubbles, sparkles and explosion of colors. stylized, intricate, detailed, artistic, text- based

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    ugly, deformed, noisy, blurry, low contrast, realism, photorealistic

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    More prompts from donlaiq

    professional 3d model cinematic photo of eight snails ready to run a 100 meters dash in a racetrack. 35mm photograph, film, bokeh, professional, 8k, highly detailed, top view . octane render, highly detailed, volumetric, dramatic lighting
    A frog wearing a pink tutu and pointe shoes jumping. Pink background. Film grain, 8k, hd.
    Horror-themed a horrendous, dark scene of a scary, gloomy ghost screaming in a dark room corner of an enchanted house. 8k, 4k, ultrarealistic, realistic, hd. . Eerie, unsettling, dark, spooky, suspenseful, grim, highly detailed
    Horror-themed Two zombie hands forming a heart. A couple of syrupy zombies in the background. 35mm photograph, film, professional, 4k, highly detailed. . Eerie, unsettling, dark, spooky, suspenseful, grim, highly detailed
    Horror-themed Lo! 'tis a gala night Within the lonesome latter years! An angel throng, bewinged, bedight In veils, and drowned in tears, Sit in a theatre, to see A play of hopes and fears, While the orchestra breathes fitfully The music of the spheres. Mimes, in the form of God on high, Mutter and mumble low, And hither and thither fly- Mere puppets they, who come and go At bidding of vast formless things That shift the scenery to and fro, Flapping from out their Condor wings Invisible Woe! That motley drama- oh, be sure It shall not be forgot! With its Phantom chased for evermore, By a crowd that seize it not, Through a circle that ever returneth in To the self-same spot, And much of Madness, and more of Sin, And Horror the soul of the plot. But see, amid the mimic rout A crawling shape intrude! A blood-red thing that writhes from out The scenic solitude! It writhes!- it writhes!- with mortal pangs The mimes become its food, And seraphs sob at vermin fangs In human gore imbued. Out- out are the lights- out all! And, over each quivering form, The curtain, a funeral pall, Comes down with the rush of a storm, While the angels, all pallid and wan, Uprising, unveiling, affirm That the play is the tragedy, "Man," And its hero the Conqueror Worm. perfect skulls . Eerie, unsettling, dark, spooky, suspenseful, grim, highly detailed
    Masterwork painting, The Mona Lisa with mustache by Leonardo Da Vinci
    typographic art of an ugly, old witch with pointing hat, preparing a magic, multicolor concoction in a burn, black huge pot, revolving with a long, dirty stick. Bubbles, sparkles and explosion of colors . stylized, intricate, detailed, artistic, text-based
    texture cinematic photo of a tennis player holding a frying pan from the handle. Tennis court. 35mm photograph, film, bokeh, professional, 4k, highly detailed top down close-up
    Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. "'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door- Only this, and nothing more." Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow;- vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow- sorrow for the lost Lenore- For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore- Nameless here for evermore. And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating, "'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door- Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;- This it is, and nothing more." Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you"- here I opened wide the door;- Darkness there, and nothing more. Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?" This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"- Merely this, and nothing more. Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. "Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice: Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore- Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;- 'Tis the wind and nothing more!" Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore; Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door- Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door- Perched, and sat, and nothing more. Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore. "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore- Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning- little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door- Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as "Nevermore." But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered- Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before- On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before." Then the bird said, "Nevermore." Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, "Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store, Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore- Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore Of 'Never- nevermore'." But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door; Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore- What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking "Nevermore." This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er, She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee- by these angels he hath sent thee Respite- respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! - Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted- On this home by Horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore- Is there- is there balm in Gilead?- tell me- tell me, I implore!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us- by that God we both adore- Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore- Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore." Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." "Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked, upstarting- "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken!- quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted- nevermore!
    a very cute smiling baby dressed like an Argentinian gaucho, with poncho, kerchief, intricate bow, bolas, baggy pants, boots, [hat:1.5] and dragging a little (hobbyhorse:1.5). Full body, perfect fingers. Extremely high-resolution details, photographic, realism pushed to extreme, fine texture, incredibly lifelike, cinematic, 35mm film, 35mm photography, film, photo realism, DSLR, 4k, 8k, uhd, hr, hdr, ultra-detailed, high quality, high contrast, film grain, blurry background, blurry foreground, motion blur:1.3.
    Cinematic photo of a chimpanzee smoking a cigarette. Hawaiian shirt and Panama hat. Smoke. 35mm photograph, film, professional, 4k, highly detailed.
    Photo of Roman soldiers playing poker with several stacks of . Extremely high-resolution details, photographic, realism pushed to extreme, fine texture, incredibly lifelike, cinematic, 35mm film, 35mm photography, film, photo realism, DSLR, 8k, hr, hdr, ultra-detailed, high quality, high contrast, film grain, high speed blur
    If my man was fighting Some unholy war I would be behind him Straight shook up beside him With strength he didn't know It's you I'm fighting for He can't lose with me in tow I refuse to let him go At his side and drunk on pride We wait for the blow We put it in writing But who you writing for Just us on kitchen floor Justice done, Reciting my stomach standing still Like you're reading my will He still stands in spite of what his scars say And I'll battle 'til this bitter finale Just me, my dignity and this guitar case Yes my man is fighting some unholy war And I will stand beside you And who you dying for B - I would have died too I'd have liked too If my man was fighting Some unholy war If my man was fighting
    Horror-themed a photo a personification of a mole animal with a lot of magnification in its glasses, showing to the visor huge eyes. . Eerie, unsettling, dark, spooky, suspenseful, grim, highly detailed
    Loaded like a freight train Flyin' like an aeroplane Feelin' like a space brain One more time tonight (look out) Well, I'm a west coast struttin' One bad mother Got a rattlesnake suitcase under my arm Said I'm a mean machine Been drinkin' gasoline And honey you can make my motor hum I got one chance left In a nine live cat I got a dog eat dog sly smile I got a molotov cocktail with a match to go I smoke my cigarette with style And I can tell you honey You can make my money tonight Wake up late, honey put on your clothes And take your credit card to the liquor store Well that's one for you and two for me by tonight I'll be loaded like a freight train Flyin' like an aeroplane Feelin' like a space brain One more time tonight I'm on the night train, bottoms up I'm on the night train, fill my cup I'm on the night train, ready to crash and burn I never learn I'm on the night train, I love that stuff I'm on the night train, and I can never get enough I'm on the night train, never to return, no Loaded like a freight train Flyin' like an aeroplane Speedin' like a space brain One more time tonight I'm on the night train And I'm lookin' for some I'm on the night train So's I can leave this slum I'm on the night train And I'm ready to crash and burn Night train, bottoms up I'm on the night train, fill my cup I'm on the night train Oh oh oh ohh oh yeah I'm on the night train Love that stuff Ooh I'm on the night train And I can never get enough Ridin' the night train I guess I I guess, I guess, I guess I never learn On the night train Float me home Ooh, I'm on the night train Ridin' the night train Never to return Night train
    (masterpiece, top quality, best quality, beautiful and aesthetic):1.2. A beautiful, ebony girl, ((coming out from a white silkworm's cocoon converted in a butterfly)). (((full body))), (white hair, white eyebrows):5.2. ((((dressed with white silk rags)))). Extremely high-resolution details, photographic, realism pushed to extreme, fine texture, incredibly lifelike, cinematic, 35mm film, 35mm photography, film, photo realism, DSLR, 4k, 8k uhd, hr, hdr, ultra-detailed, high quality, high contrast, film grain. White silk background. White wings
    Cinematic photo of a couple of in love zombies. He has in his hands his real bleeding heart to her. Apocalypse and destruction background. 35mm photograph, film, bokeh, professional, 4k, highly detailed.
    cinematic photo a personification of a fat elephant dressed in sport clothes. Sweating, exhausted, and running in the park. . 35mm photograph, film, bokeh, professional, 4k, highly detailed
    Thy soul shall find itself alone 'Mid dark thoughts of the grey tomb-stone -- Not one, of all the crowd, to pry Into thine hour of secrecy: Be silent in that solitude Which is not loneliness -- for then The spirits of the dead who stood In life before thee are again In death around thee -- and their will Shall then overshadow thee: be still. For the night -- tho' clear -- shall frown -- And the stars shall look not down, From their high thrones in the Heaven, With light like Hope to mortals given -- But their red orbs, without beam, To thy weariness shall seem As a burning and a fever Which would cling to thee for ever : Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish -- Now are visions ne'er to vanish -- From thy spirit shall they pass No more -- like dew-drop from the grass: The breeze -- the breath of God -- is still -- And the mist upon the hill Shadowy -- shadowy -- yet unbroken, Is a symbol and a token -- How it hangs upon the trees, A mystery of mysteries! --
    full body, a hockey player grabbing a (broom:2.4). 8k, 4k, ultrarealistic, realistic, hd.
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