donlaiq
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    A photo of a rock band made of vegetables. 8k, hd

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    (deformed iris, deformed pupils), text, worst quality, low quality, ugly.

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    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! --
    By a route obscure and lonely, Haunted by ill angels only, Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT, On a black throne reigns upright, I have reached these lands but newly From an ultimate dim Thule -- From a wild weird clime that lieth, sublime, Out of SPACE -- out of TIME. Bottomless vales and boundless floods, And chasms, and caves, and Titan woods, With forms that no man can discover For the dews that drip all over; Mountains toppling evermore Into seas without a shore; Seas that restlessly aspire, Surging, unto skies of fire; Lakes that endlessly outspread Their lone waters -- lone and dead, -- Their still waters -- still and chilly With the snows of the lolling lily. By the lakes that thus outspread Their lone waters, lone and dead, -- Their sad waters, sad and chilly With the snows of the lolling lily, -- By the mountains -- near the river Murmuring lowly, murmuring ever, -- By the grey woods, -- by the swamp Where the toad and the newt encamp, -- By the dismal tarns and pools Where dwell the Ghouls, -- By each spot the most unholy -- In each nook most melancholy, -- There the traveller meets aghast Sheeted Memories of the Past -- Shrouded forms that start and sigh As they pass the wanderer by -- White-robed forms of friends long given, In agony, to the Earth -- and Heaven. For the heart whose woes are legion 'Tis a peaceful, soothing region -- For the spirit that walks in shadow 'Tis -- oh 'tis an Eldorado! But the traveller, travelling through it, May not -- dare not openly view it; Never its mysteries are exposed To the weak human eye unclosed; So wills its King, who hath forbid The uplifting of the fringed lid; And thus the sad Soul that here passes Beholds it but through darkened glasses. By a route obscure and lonely, Haunted by ill angels only, Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT, On a black throne reigns upright, I have wandered home but newly From this ultimate dim Thule.
    What is this that stands before me? Figure in black, which points at me Turn 'round quick, and start to run Find out I'm the chosen one Oh, no! Big black shape with eyes of fire Telling people their desire Satan's sitting there, he's smiling Watches those flames get higher and higher Oh, no, no, please, God Is it the end, my friend? Satan's coming 'round the bend People running 'cause they're scared The people better go and beware! No, no, oh, God, no!
    Horror-themed (Analog photo by Rutkowski), decrepit woman, 100 years old, (midday hour, high quality, film grain), poppy field . Eerie, unsettling, dark, spooky, suspenseful, grim, highly detailed
    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
    A frog wearing a pink tutu and pointe shoes doing a grand jete. Film grain, 8k, hd.
    Horror-themed cinematic photo of a disgusting, scruffy ugly chef preparing a nauseating, fetid food. Dirty table, full of garbage, sticky substances hanging everywhere. Abandoned, gloomy place full of plastics, nylons, mold with stained walls. 35mm photograph, film, bokeh, professional, 4k, highly detailed. . Eerie, unsettling, dark, spooky, suspenseful, grim, highly detailed
    In the greenest of our valleys By good angels tenanted, Once a fair and stately palace- Radiant palace- reared its head. In the monarch Thought's dominion- It stood there! Never seraph spread a pinion Over fabric half so fair! Banners yellow, glorious, golden, On its roof did float and flow, (This- all this- was in the olden Time long ago,) And every gentle air that dallied, In that sweet day, Along the ramparts plumed and pallid, A winged odor went away. Wanderers in that happy valley, Through two luminous windows, saw Spirits moving musically, To a lute's well-tuned law, Round about a throne where, sitting (Porphyrogene!) In state his glory well-befitting, The ruler of the realm was seen. And all with pearl and ruby glowing Was the fair palace door, Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing, And sparkling evermore, A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty Was but to sing, In voices of surpassing beauty, The wit and wisdom of their king. But evil things, in robes of sorrow, Assailed the monarch's high estate. (Ah, let us mourn!- for never morrow Shall dawn upon him desolate!) And round about his home the glory That blushed and bloomed, Is but a dim-remembered story Of the old time entombed. And travellers, now, within that valley, Through the red-litten windows see Vast forms, that move fantastically To a discordant melody, While, like a ghastly rapid river, Through the pale door A hideous throng rush out forever And laugh- but smile no more.
    macabre style of a tiny red flower growing on the street on an abandoned city. Nadir image. dark, gothic, grim, haunting, highly detailed
    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
    It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of ANNABEL LEE;-- And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me. She was a child and I was a child, In this kingdom by the sea, But we loved with a love that was more than love-- I and my Annabel Lee-- With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago, In this kingdom by the sea, A wind blew out of a cloud by night Chilling my Annabel Lee; So that her high-born kinsman came And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulchre In this kingdom by the sea. The angels, not half so happy in Heaven, Went envying her and me:-- Yes! that was the reason (as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea) That the wind came out of a cloud, chilling And killing my Annabel Lee. But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we-- Of many far wiser than we- And neither the angels in Heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:-- For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride, In her sepulchre there by the sea-- In her tomb by the side of the sea.
    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.
    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
    Portrait photo of a single transparent camo worn mechanical suit, ((light bokeh)), highly intricate details, ((translucent bioluminescent liquid water [rust])), elegant, sharp focus, photo by greg rutkowski, soft cinematic lighting, vibrant colors, masterpiece, moody dystopian street scene
    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
    surrealist art city. dreamlike, mysterious, provocative, symbolic, intricate, detailed
    Portrait of a fierce, angry, rustic, screaming cowboy holding a megaphone in a duel. Close up, film grain, 8k, hd, motion blur:1.5.
    Portrait of a fierce, angry, rustic, screaming cowboy holding a megaphone in a duel. Close up, film grain, 8k, hd, motion blur:1.5.
    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
    A photo of a rock band made of vegetables. 8k, hd.
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