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    More prompts from donlaiq

    A hyperrealistic photograph of an intricate, transparent elephant, decorated with Indian ornaments, having inside a futuristic, tech city of smurfs. 8k, 4k, ultrarealistic, realistic, natural skin, textured skin, hd
    valley, fairytale treehouse village covered, (8k), cinematic background, (humorous illustration, hyperrealistic), highly detailed, symmetrical, vibrant colors, cinematic lighting, fantasy digital art, octane render, beautiful composition, trending on artstation, award-winning photograph, masterpiece
    Thank Heaven! the crisis --
    The danger is past,
And the lingering illness
    Is over at last --
And the fever called "Living"
    Is conquered at last.
Sadly, I know
    I am shorn of my strength,
And no muscle I move
    As I lie at full length --
But no matter! -- I feel
    I am better at length.
And I rest so composedly,
    Now, in my bed,
That any beholder
    Might fancy me dead --
Might start at beholding me,
    Thinking me dead.
The moaning and groaning,
    The sighing and sobbing,
Are quieted now,
    With that horrible throbbing
At heart: -- ah, that horrible,
    Horrible throbbing!
The sickness -- the nausea --
    The pitiless pain --
Have ceased, with the fever
    That maddened my brain --
With the fever called "Living"
    That burned in my brain.
And oh! of all tortures
    That torture the worst
Has abated -- the terrible
    Torture of thirst
For the naphthaline river
    Of Passion accurst: --
I have drank of a water
    That quenches all thirst: --
Of a water that flows,
    With a lullaby sound,
From a spring but a very few
    Feet under ground --
From a cavern not very far
    Down under ground.
And ah! let it never
    Be foolishly said
That my room it is gloomy
    And narrow my bed;
For man never slept
    In a different bed --
And, to sleep, you must slumber
    In just such a bed.
My tantalized spirit
    Here blandly reposes,
Forgetting, or never
    Regretting its roses --
Its old agitations
    Of myrtles and roses:
For now, while so quietly
    Lying, it fancies
A holier odor
    About it, of pansies --
A rosemary odor,
    Commingled with pansies --
With rue and the beautiful
    Puritan pansies.
And so it lies happily,
    Bathing in many
A dream of the truth
    And the beauty of Annie --
Drowned in a bath
    Of the tresses of Annie.
She tenderly kissed me,
    She fondly caressed,
And then I fell gently
    To sleep on her breast --
Deeply to sleep
    From the heaven of her breast.
When the light was extinguished,
    She covered me warm,
And she prayed to the angels
    To keep me from harm --
To the queen of the angels
    To shield me from harm.
And I lie so composedly,
    Now in my bed,
(Knowing her love)
    That you fancy me dead --
And I rest so contentedly,
    Now in my bed,
(With her love at my breast)
    That you fancy me dead --
That you shudder to look at me,
    Thinking me dead: --
But my heart it is brighter
    Than all of the many
Stars in the sky,
    For it sparkles with Annie --
It glows with the light
    Of the love of my Annie --
With the thought of the light
    Of the eyes of my Annie.
    tango dancing in an old tavern
Pido permiso seores
Que este tango este tango habla por mi
Y mi voz entre sus sones dir
Dir por qu canto as
Porque cuando pibe
Porque cuando pibe me acunaba
En tango la cancin materna
Pa' llamar el sueo
Y escuche el rezongo de los bandoneones
Bajo el emparrado de mi patio viejo
Porque vi el desfile de las inclemencias
Con mis pobres ojos llorosos y abiertos
Y en la triste pieza de mis buenos viejos
Canto la pobreza su cancin de invierno
Y yo me hice en tangos
Me fui modelando en barro, en miseria
En las amarguras que da la pobreza
En llantos de madre
En la rebelda del que es fuerte
Y tiene que cruzar los brazos
Cuando el hambre viene
Y yo me hice en tangos porque
Porque el tango es macho!
Porque el tango es fuerte!
Tiene olor a vida
Tiene gusto a muerte
Porque quise mucho, y porque me engaaron
Y pase la vida masticando sueos
Porque soy un rbol que nunca dio frutos
Porque soy un perro que no tiene dueo
Porque tengo odios que nunca los digo
Porque cuando quiero, porque cuando quiero me desangro en besos
Porque quise mucho, y no me han querido
Por eso, canto, tan triste
Por eso!
    A surprised skeleton dressed in nightgown with a nightcap hat, holding a candle in the cemetery at night. 8k, hd.
    Once it smiled a silent dell
Where the people did not dwell;
They had gone unto the wars,
Trusting to the mild-eyed stars,
Nightly, from their azure towers,
To keep watch above the flowers,
In the midst of which all day
The red sun-light lazily lay.
Now each visitor shall confess
The sad valley's restlessness.
Nothing there is motionless --
Nothing save the airs that brood
Over the magic solitude.
Ah, by no wind are stirred those trees
That palpitate like the chill seas
Around the misty Hebrides!
Ah, by no wind those clouds are driven
That rustle through the unquiet Heaven
Uneasily, from morn till even,
Over the violets there that lie
In myriad types of the human eye --
Over the lilies there that wave
And weep above a nameless grave!
They wave: -- from out their fragrant tops
Eternal dews come down in drops.
They weep: -- from off their delicate stems
Perennial tears descend in gems.
    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
    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! --
    Portrait of a fierce, angry, rustic, screaming cowboy holding a megaphone in a duel. Close up, film grain, 8k, hd, motion blur:1.5.
    A sheep wearing a sheep jacket
    A frog wearing a pink tutu and pointe shoes jumping. Pink background. Film grain, 8k, hd.
    Photo of a hummingbird sipping a beautiful (bell-shape flower). 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
    Horror-themed a photo of the full body of a personification of a mole animal with a lot of magnification in its huge transparent glasses, showing to the visor enormous eyes. . Eerie, unsettling, dark, spooky, suspenseful, grim, highly detailed
    Space-themed A fish floating in the outer space within an astronaut helmet. Stars in the background. Film grain, 8k, hd, motion blur:1.5. . Cosmic, celestial, stars, galaxies, nebulas, planets, science fiction, highly detailed
    long exposure photo of a lonely, sad girl sitting in the park. Blurred motion, streaks of light, surreal, dreamy, ghosting effect, 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
    Lo! Death has reared himself a throne
In a strange city lying alone
Far down within the dim West,
Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best
Have gone to their eternal rest.
There shrines and palaces and towers
(Time-eaten towers that tremble not!)
Resemble nothing that is ours.
Around, by lifting winds forgot,
Resignedly beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie.
No rays from the holy heaven come down
On the long night-time of that town;
But light from out the lurid sea
Streams up the turrets silently-
Gleams up the pinnacles far and free-
Up domes- up spires- up kingly halls-
Up fanes- up Babylon-like walls-
Up shadowy long-forgotten bowers
Of sculptured ivy and stone flowers-
Up many and many a marvellous shrine
Whose wreathed friezes intertwine
The viol, the violet, and the vine.
Resignedly beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie.
So blend the turrets and shadows there
That all seem pendulous in air,
While from a proud tower in the town
Death looks gigantically down.
There open fanes and gaping graves
Yawn level with the luminous waves;
But not the riches there that lie
In each idol's diamond eye-
Not the gaily-jewelled dead
Tempt the waters from their bed;
For no ripples curl, alas!
Along that wilderness of glass-
No swellings tell that winds may be
Upon some far-off happier sea-
No heavings hint that winds have been
On seas less hideously serene.
But lo, a stir is in the air!
The wave- there is a movement there!
As if the towers had thrust aside,
In slightly sinking, the dull tide-
As if their tops had feebly given
A void within the filmy Heaven.
The waves have now a redder glow-
The hours are breathing faint and low-
And when, amid no earthly moans,
Down, down that town shall settle hence,
Hell, rising from a thousand thrones,
Shall do it reverence.
    Portrait of a fierce, angry viking holding an ice cream in the battlefield. Close up, film grain, 8k, hd.
    a photo of a whirlwind storm inside an old bottle with detailed, beautiful golden cap in a captain's cabin of an old pirate ship.
    A frog wearing a pink tutu and pointe shoes, doing a some jumps. Pink background. Film grain, 8k, hd.
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