Torn in timeListen to my words for onceDo you fear?Fear for a broken spell of lustTouched by a mortal sinnerRoar of massive illusion


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Torn in time, Listen to my words for once, Do you fear?, Fear for a broken spell of lust, Touched by a mortal sinner, Roar of massive illusion,

Torn in time, Listen to my words for once, Do you fear?, Fear for a broken spell of lust, Touched by a mortal sinner, Roar of massive illusion,

Through the dancing veils of dust, a glimmer stirs memory of mysteries past. Where lamplight plays upon the shrouds of centuries, familiar shapes take form once more. Wrapped in faded silks left by drifting eons, features peek forth - a visage untouched since time forgot its name and place. One slender hand reaches as if to grasp again a scepter ruling realms where even immortals pace in shadow. Hollows that once cradled eyes gazing on splendors beyond mortal sight now hold relics of awe for dreamers alone. And about the dusky brow still lingers halo of glory Time's shroud could never lift. So in gloamings and on wisps of sighs borne through the mist shall this child-monarch keep his silent vigil, sentinel of secrets graven in shattered stones but never for mortal hands to lift - until dawn shall loose once more the clues of mysteries night makes hers alone.

Through the dancing veils of dust, a glimmer stirs memory of mysteries past. Where lamplight plays upon the shrouds of centuries, familiar shapes take form once more. Wrapped in faded silks left by drifting eons, features peek forth - a visage untouched since time forgot its name and place. One slender hand reaches as if to grasp again a scepter ruling realms where even immortals pace in shadow. Hollows that once cradled eyes gazing on splendors beyond mortal sight now hold relics of awe for dreamers alone. And about the dusky brow still lingers halo of glory Time's shroud could never lift. So in gloamings and on wisps of sighs borne through the mist shall this child-monarch keep his silent vigil, sentinel of secrets graven in shattered stones but never for mortal hands to lift - until dawn shall loose once more the clues of mysteries night makes hers alone.

eye, dark, fear, frightened, anguish

dark, distressing image, fear

dark, distressing image, fear

Silas Thorne, the obsessed astronomer, believed fervently in the existence of other dimensions. Characters: Silas Thorne, a man in his late 40s, with disheveled hair and intense, haunted eyes. Description: Silas frantically scribbling arcane symbols on a chalkboard covered in star charts and equations. Era: Late 19th century. Clothing: Silas wears a worn-out, Victorian-era astronomer's outfit, complete with a waistcoat and pocket watch. Location: Silas's observatory perched on a hill, surrounded by ancient trees and the night sky. Action: Silas activating a mysterious device with a trembling hand, surrounded by the glow of unearthly light. Background: Celestial bodies aligning in the night sky, forming a portal-like pattern. Shot Type: Close-up of Silas's face, capturing the intensity of his belief and fear.

\"Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less gone?\"

In the depths of night, when hope fades fast,And shadows crawl where light once shone,Appears a crimson ghost, its magic cast,To reignite the flame that long has gone.Its eyes ablaze like coals of fire,A cloak that drapes in endless flow,It conjures secrets to inspire,And makes the heart with hope aglow.This ghostly figure shuns the day,And defies the rules of mortal law,It whispers secrets with a sway,That fills the void with eerie awe.The magic of this spectral host,Is in its crimson blood-like hue,That sends a chill down to the bone,And makes the heart beat black and blue.So when the darkness threatens to consume,And fear and doubt threaten to reign,Call forth the ghost with crimson plume,To light the way and break the chain.

In the depths of night, when hope fades fast,And shadows crawl where light once shone,Appears a crimson ghost, its magic cast,To reignite the flame that long has gone.Its eyes ablaze like coals of fire,A cloak that drapes in endless flow,It conjures secrets to inspire,And makes the heart with hope aglow.This ghostly figure shuns the day,And defies the rules of mortal law,It whispers secrets with a sway,That fills the void with eerie awe.The magic of this spectral host,Is in its crimson blood-like hue,That sends a chill down to the bone,And makes the heart beat black and blue.So when the darkness threatens to consume,And fear and doubt threaten to reign,Call forth the ghost with crimson plume,To light the way and break the chain.

In the depths of night, when hope fades fast,And shadows crawl where light once shone,Appears a crimson ghost, its magic cast,To reignite the flame that long has gone.Its eyes ablaze like coals of fire,A cloak that drapes in endless flow,It conjures secrets to inspire,And makes the heart with hope aglow.This ghostly figure shuns the day,And defies the rules of mortal law,It whispers secrets with a sway,That fills the void with eerie awe.The magic of this spectral host,Is in its crimson blood-like hue,That sends a chill down to the bone,And makes the heart beat black and blue.So when the darkness threatens to consume,And fear and doubt threaten to reign,Call forth the ghost with crimson plume,To light the way and break the chain.

Confessed in the quiet darkness A timid whisper, someone's speech. My stern profile is sad From the rays of trembling candles.

When you try your best, but you dont succeedWhen you get what you want, but not what you needWhen you feel so tired, but you cant sleepStuck in reverseAnd the tears come streaming down your faceWhen you lose something you cant replaceWhen you love someone, but it goes to wasteCould it be worse?Lights will guide you homeAnd ignite your bonesAnd I will try to fix youAnd high up above or down belowWhen youre too in love to let it goBut if you never try, youll never knowJust what youre worthLights will guide you homeAnd ignite your bonesAnd I will try to fix youTears stream down your faceWhen you lose something you cannot replaceTears stream down your faceAnd ITears stream down your faceI promise you, Ill learn from my mistakesTears stream down your faceAnd ILights will guide you homeAnd ignite your bonesAnd I will try to fix you

When you try your best, but you dont succeedWhen you get what you want, but not what you needWhen you feel so tired, but you cant sleepStuck in reverseAnd the tears come streaming down your faceWhen you lose something you cant replaceWhen you love someone, but it goes to wasteCould it be worse?Lights will guide you homeAnd ignite your bonesAnd I will try to fix youAnd high up above or down belowWhen youre too in love to let it goBut if you never try, youll never knowJust what youre worthLights will guide you homeAnd ignite your bonesAnd I will try to fix youTears stream down your faceWhen you lose something you cannot replaceTears stream down your faceAnd ITears stream down your faceI promise you, Ill learn from my mistakesTears stream down your faceAnd ILights will guide you homeAnd ignite your bonesAnd I will try to fix you

When you try your best, but you dont succeedWhen you get what you want, but not what you needWhen you feel so tired, but you cant sleepStuck in reverseAnd the tears come streaming down your faceWhen you lose something you cant replaceWhen you love someone, but it goes to wasteCould it be worse?Lights will guide you homeAnd ignite your bonesAnd I will try to fix youAnd high up above or down belowWhen youre too in love to let it goBut if you never try, youll never knowJust what youre worthLights will guide you homeAnd ignite your bonesAnd I will try to fix youTears stream down your faceWhen you lose something you cannot replaceTears stream down your faceAnd ITears stream down your faceI promise you, Ill learn from my mistakesTears stream down your faceAnd ILights will guide you homeAnd ignite your bonesAnd I will try to fix you

When you try your best, but you dont succeedWhen you get what you want, but not what you needWhen you feel so tired, but you cant sleepStuck in reverseAnd the tears come streaming down your faceWhen you lose something you cant replaceWhen you love someone, but it goes to wasteCould it be worse?Lights will guide you homeAnd ignite your bonesAnd I will try to fix youAnd high up above or down belowWhen youre too in love to let it goBut if you never try, youll never knowJust what youre worthLights will guide you homeAnd ignite your bonesAnd I will try to fix youTears stream down your faceWhen you lose something you cannot replaceTears stream down your faceAnd ITears stream down your faceI promise you, Ill learn from my mistakesTears stream down your faceAnd ILights will guide you homeAnd ignite your bonesAnd I will try to fix you

Portrait of insanity, a mind untamed,Where thoughts dance wildly, unashamed.Colors of chaos, brushstrokes askew,A canvas of madness, a world askew.In twisted dreams, reality bends,A labyrinth of thoughts, where reason ends.Whispers of darkness, echoes of fear,In this painted realm, sanity veers.The artist's hand, a vessel possessed,Creating a masterpiece, both cursed and blessed.Emotions unleashed, a torrential storm,In this portrait of insanity, a soul is reborn.From shattered fragments, beauty arises,A glimpse into a world where madness disguises.Through fractured lines and abstract forms,A tale of the human condition transforms.So gaze upon this portrait, with open eyes,Embrace the chaos, let your spirit rise.For within this madness, a truth is revealed,That from the depths of insanity, art is sealed.

Portrait of insanity, a mind untamed,Where thoughts dance wildly, unashamed.Colors of chaos, brushstrokes askew,A canvas of madness, a world askew.In twisted dreams, reality bends,A labyrinth of thoughts, where reason ends.Whispers of darkness, echoes of fear,In this painted realm, sanity veers.The artist's hand, a vessel possessed,Creating a masterpiece, both cursed and blessed.Emotions unleashed, a torrential storm,In this portrait of insanity, a soul is reborn.From shattered fragments, beauty arises,A glimpse into a world where madness disguises.Through fractured lines and abstract forms,A tale of the human condition transforms.So gaze upon this portrait, with open eyes,Embrace the chaos, let your spirit rise.For within this madness, a truth is revealed,That from the depths of insanity, art is sealed.

Portrait of insanity, a mind untamed,Where thoughts dance wildly, unashamed.Colors of chaos, brushstrokes askew,A canvas of madness, a world askew.In twisted dreams, reality bends,A labyrinth of thoughts, where reason ends.Whispers of darkness, echoes of fear,In this painted realm, sanity veers.The artist's hand, a vessel possessed,Creating a masterpiece, both cursed and blessed.Emotions unleashed, a torrential storm,In this portrait of insanity, a soul is reborn.From shattered fragments, beauty arises,A glimpse into a world where madness disguises.Through fractured lines and abstract forms,A tale of the human condition transforms.So gaze upon this portrait, with open eyes,Embrace the chaos, let your spirit rise.For within this madness, a truth is revealed,That from the depths of insanity, art is sealed.

Portrait of insanity, a mind untamed,Where thoughts dance wildly, unashamed.Colors of chaos, brushstrokes askew,A canvas of madness, a world askew.In twisted dreams, reality bends,A labyrinth of thoughts, where reason ends.Whispers of darkness, echoes of fear,In this painted realm, sanity veers.The artist's hand, a vessel possessed,Creating a masterpiece, both cursed and blessed.Emotions unleashed, a torrential storm,In this portrait of insanity, a soul is reborn.From shattered fragments, beauty arises,A glimpse into a world where madness disguises.Through fractured lines and abstract forms,A tale of the human condition transforms.So gaze upon this portrait, with open eyes,Embrace the chaos, let your spirit rise.For within this madness, a truth is revealed,That from the depths of insanity, art is sealed.

The malevolent Hellhound stands before the ominous gates of the abyss, guarding the entrance to the underworld with a terrifying presence. Each of its three heads emanates a sinister and predatory aura, with gnashing mouths revealing sharp fangs that gleam with malicious intent. The creatures fur is ablaze with wicked flames, casting an ominous glow that intensifies the surrounding aura of fear.

The malevolent Hellhound stands before the ominous gates of the abyss, guarding the entrance to the underworld with a terrifying presence. Each of its three heads emanates a sinister and predatory aura, with gnashing mouths revealing sharp fangs that gleam with malicious intent. The creatures fur is ablaze with wicked flames, casting an ominous glow that intensifies the surrounding aura of fear.

In the dark and mysterious nightThe Night Poet flies triumphant and powerfulHis glowing soul, charged with flameFlaming art, spectacle of fantasyHis verses glow, his words burnStrong flames, desires that eternally igniteHe evokes spells and enchantmentsForgotten legends, curses and sufferingsHis fire lights the ancient runic symbolsAnd the dead awaken from their lethargic slumberSpectres and souls dance in the flaming glowWhile the Night Poet conjures his screaming flameHe cries out about love, loss and painSorrows that will never fade, like odourless soresHis verses weave a magic spellThat attracts both the living and the tragic deadThe flame of the Night Poet burns strongIn the morbid night, a divine spectacle in his courtHis words, a sombre and profound chorusBewitched by the magic of his nocturnal fire.So the Night Poet takes his flightHis burning pen, his flame burning nakedWhile the dark sky lights up in flames of lightHis art emanates magic, transforming the world into seduction and flux.

In the dark and mysterious nightThe Night Poet flies triumphant and powerfulHis glowing soul, charged with flameFlaming art, spectacle of fantasyHis verses glow, his words burnStrong flames, desires that eternally igniteHe evokes spells and enchantmentsForgotten legends, curses and sufferingsHis fire lights the ancient runic symbolsAnd the dead awaken from their lethargic slumberSpectres and souls dance in the flaming glowWhile the Night Poet conjures his screaming flameHe cries out about love, loss and painSorrows that will never fade, like odourless soresHis verses weave a magic spellThat attracts both the living and the tragic deadThe flame of the Night Poet burns strongIn the morbid night, a divine spectacle in his courtHis words, a sombre and profound chorusBewitched by the magic of his nocturnal fire.So the Night Poet takes his flightHis burning pen, his flame burning nakedWhile the dark sky lights up in flames of lightHis art emanates magic, transforming the world into seduction and flux.

In the dark and mysterious nightThe Night Poet flies triumphant and powerfulHis glowing soul, charged with flameFlaming art, spectacle of fantasyHis verses glow, his words burnStrong flames, desires that eternally igniteHe evokes spells and enchantmentsForgotten legends, curses and sufferingsHis fire lights the ancient runic symbolsAnd the dead awaken from their lethargic slumberSpectres and souls dance in the flaming glowWhile the Night Poet conjures his screaming flameHe cries out about love, loss and painSorrows that will never fade, like odourless soresHis verses weave a magic spellThat attracts both the living and the tragic deadThe flame of the Night Poet burns strongIn the morbid night, a divine spectacle in his courtHis words, a sombre and profound chorusBewitched by the magic of his nocturnal fire.So the Night Poet takes his flightHis burning pen, his flame burning nakedWhile the dark sky lights up in flames of lightHis art emanates magic, transforming the world into seduction and flux.

Oh, in the elder magic of ages lost,Two lovers found, at great cost,Life, a dark and quiet king,Death, a bright and wise queen.Their love, a mystery to behold,Of opposites, their hearts enfold,Ebony and ivory in sweet embrace,Their love a haunting, the purest grace.For life, a force of passion deep,Finds solace in death's eternal sleep,And death, in life's enduring flame,Finds peace in love's eternal game.Together they dance, these lost souls,In a world of shadows and ghouls,Their love, a testament to the macabre,A beacon shining, a lover's sabre.For where life and death doth intertwine,A beauty of darkness, so divine,In hues of ebony and ivory,A love that's true and never weary.So let us marvel at this sight,Of life and death in sweet delight,In the elder magic of ages gone,Where love and darkness doth enthrone.

Oh, in the elder magic of ages lost,Two lovers found, at great cost,Life, a dark and quiet king,Death, a bright and wise queen.Their love, a mystery to behold,Of opposites, their hearts enfold,Ebony and ivory in sweet embrace,Their love a haunting, the purest grace.For life, a force of passion deep,Finds solace in death's eternal sleep,And death, in life's enduring flame,Finds peace in love's eternal game.Together they dance, these lost souls,In a world of shadows and ghouls,Their love, a testament to the macabre,A beacon shining, a lover's sabre.For where life and death doth intertwine,A beauty of darkness, so divine,In hues of ebony and ivory,A love that's true and never weary.So let us marvel at this sight,Of life and death in sweet delight,In the elder magic of ages gone,Where love and darkness doth enthrone.

Oh, in the elder magic of ages lost,Two lovers found, at great cost,Life, a dark and quiet king,Death, a bright and wise queen.Their love, a mystery to behold,Of opposites, their hearts enfold,Ebony and ivory in sweet embrace,Their love a haunting, the purest grace.For life, a force of passion deep,Finds solace in death's eternal sleep,And death, in life's enduring flame,Finds peace in love's eternal game.Together they dance, these lost souls,In a world of shadows and ghouls,Their love, a testament to the macabre,A beacon shining, a lover's sabre.For where life and death doth intertwine,A beauty of darkness, so divine,In hues of ebony and ivory,A love that's true and never weary.So let us marvel at this sight,Of life and death in sweet delight,In the elder magic of ages gone,Where love and darkness doth enthrone.

90s anime, half face broken snd electric parts shown, half face intact, with cyberpunk lines, walking in the middle of the downtrodden city, dystopian world, abandoned, walking in the city, depressing illustration, high-quality, dark, highly detailed illustration, nostalgic, hopeless, black and red colours, sad and depressing illustration, enslaved, Edgerunners style, full skeleton body with black wings, sad and depressing, cynerpunk experiments, sadness, dark stylized, bold, no close up, full body, illustration, robotic body with female face, cyber accessories, hair, original anime character in ghost in the shell style, dark colours and style, robotic, nostalgic style, HD, 4K, 8K, iconic style, iconic character, anime art, female protagonist, mysterious atmosphere, contemplative, captivating, dynamic scene, unease, fear, subtly mysterious atmosphere, beautiful, contemplative

that reflect the corridor infinitely in both directions. The pathway is eerie, with ambient red lights placed at the base of each frame, casting a sinister glow and sharp shadows on the floor. The ceiling is damaged and decayed in places, with some panels missing, revealing the dark voids above, suggesting neglect and abandonment. The floor appears to be slick and reflective, possibly wet, which enhances the red lighting and creates a feeling of unease as it mirrors the sinister ambiance above. This corridor has the hallmarks of a haunted attraction, designed to disorient and unsettle visitors. The repetition of frames and the perspective draw the viewer's eye to the vanishing point at the center of the image, which, coupled with the lighting, generates a sense of foreboding.

Imagine a striking image where a gleaming golden beam of light emanates from a desktop computer, enveloping a human figure below. The human stands in a confident pose, surrounded by a glow that elevates them, symbolizing empowerment. This radiant beam transforms the individual into a godlike figure, emphasizing the transformative and empowering potential of technology, capturing a blend of awe, power, and transcendence in a singular moment.

Imagine a striking image where a gleaming golden beam of light emanates from a desktop computer, enveloping a human figure below. The human stands in a confident pose, surrounded by a glow that elevates them, symbolizing empowerment. This radiant beam transforms the individual into a godlike figure, emphasizing the transformative and empowering potential of technology, capturing a blend of awe, power, and transcendence in a singular moment.

Imagine a striking image where a gleaming golden beam of light emanates from a desktop computer, enveloping a human figure below. The human stands in a confident pose, surrounded by a glow that elevates them, symbolizing empowerment. This radiant beam transforms the individual into a godlike figure, emphasizing the transformative and empowering potential of technology, capturing a blend of awe, power, and transcendence in a singular moment.

Imagine a striking image where a gleaming golden beam of light emanates from a desktop computer, enveloping a human figure below. The human stands in a confident pose, surrounded by a glow that elevates them, symbolizing empowerment. This radiant beam transforms the individual into a godlike figure, emphasizing the transformative and empowering potential of technology, capturing a blend of awe, power, and transcendence in a singular moment.

Imagine a striking image where a gleaming golden beam of light emanates from a desktop computer, enveloping a human figure below. The human stands in a confident pose, surrounded by a glow that elevates them, symbolizing empowerment. This radiant beam transforms the individual into a godlike figure, emphasizing the transformative and empowering potential of technology, capturing a blend of awe, power, and transcendence in a singular moment.

The background of the image is a dimly lit corridor in the school dormitory building. In the distance, through an open door, a faint light can be seen inside the dormitory. A young student stands with his back to the viewer, his silhouette appearing lonely and burdened, his hair swaying in the night breeze. In front of him, a large window is wide open, casting a chilling light and shadow on the floor from the moonlight outside. Beyond the window, thick mist shrouds the scene, creating a mysterious atmosphere. In the darkness outside the window, a vague figure stands on the campus, holding a hammer that produces a haunting sound, sending shivers down the spine. In the fog, the facial features of this figure are indistinguishable, leaving only a pair of hollow eyes, revealing a sinister and eerie ambiance. Above the entire scene, traditional and ancient Chinese-style text is written: \Haunted Campus: The Mystery of the Mechanical and Electrical Class,\ with distorted and antiquated lettering, enhancing the storys traditional and mystical elements. The entire cover evokes a sense of unease and mystery, sparking the readers curiosity and fear about the storys plot.

(scumbling technique, abstract image) The mirror of a lustrum. There is a contemplative lustrum behind the glass, which is a mute consort of the boiling joy that cries out to it with arms upraised and crowned in a fist, to the twin that looks out through that window. It is a small victory dressed in time won, and that the first conscience jealously guards in the memory of a child born into the world for the second time. And I ask myself at every instant: How long will the memory last? That one that assaults the head every time a doubt arises, every time it takes refuge in the moment that celebrates being alive; The one that becomes the shadow of your own Cronos! In the guardian of the Ego, that dresses you before the gaze of God... Forever and ever.

(scumbling technique, abstract image) The mirror of a lustrum. There is a contemplative lustrum behind the glass, which is a mute consort of the boiling joy that cries out to it with arms upraised and crowned in a fist, to the twin that looks out through that window. It is a small victory dressed in time won, and that the first conscience jealously guards in the memory of a child born into the world for the second time. And I ask myself at every instant: How long will the memory last? That one that assaults the head every time a doubt arises, every time it takes refuge in the moment that celebrates being alive; The one that becomes the shadow of your own Cronos! In the guardian of the Ego, that dresses you before the gaze of God... Forever and ever.

(scumbling technique, abstract image) The mirror of a lustrum. There is a contemplative lustrum behind the glass, which is a mute consort of the boiling joy that cries out to it with arms upraised and crowned in a fist, to the twin that looks out through that window. It is a small victory dressed in time won, and that the first conscience jealously guards in the memory of a child born into the world for the second time. And I ask myself at every instant: How long will the memory last? That one that assaults the head every time a doubt arises, every time it takes refuge in the moment that celebrates being alive; The one that becomes the shadow of your own Cronos! In the guardian of the Ego, that dresses you before the gaze of God... Forever and ever.

(scumbling technique, abstract image) The mirror of a lustrum. There is a contemplative lustrum behind the glass, which is a mute consort of the boiling joy that cries out to it with arms upraised and crowned in a fist, to the twin that looks out through that window. It is a small victory dressed in time won, and that the first conscience jealously guards in the memory of a child born into the world for the second time. And I ask myself at every instant: How long will the memory last? That one that assaults the head every time a doubt arises, every time it takes refuge in the moment that celebrates being alive; The one that becomes the shadow of your own Cronos! In the guardian of the Ego, that dresses you before the gaze of God... Forever and ever.

(scumbling technique, abstract image) The mirror of a lustrum. There is a contemplative lustrum behind the glass, which is a mute consort of the boiling joy that cries out to it with arms upraised and crowned in a fist, to the twin that looks out through that window. It is a small victory dressed in time won, and that the first conscience jealously guards in the memory of a child born into the world for the second time. And I ask myself at every instant: How long will the memory last? That one that assaults the head every time a doubt arises, every time it takes refuge in the moment that celebrates being alive; The one that becomes the shadow of your own Cronos! In the guardian of the Ego, that dresses you before the gaze of God... Forever and ever.

(scumbling technique, abstract image) The mirror of a lustrum. There is a contemplative lustrum behind the glass, which is a mute consort of the boiling joy that cries out to it with arms upraised and crowned in a fist, to the twin that looks out through that window. It is a small victory dressed in time won, and that the first conscience jealously guards in the memory of a child born into the world for the second time. And I ask myself at every instant: How long will the memory last? That one that assaults the head every time a doubt arises, every time it takes refuge in the moment that celebrates being alive; The one that becomes the shadow of your own Cronos! In the guardian of the Ego, that dresses you before the gaze of God... Forever and ever.

(scumbling technique, abstract image) The mirror of a lustrum. There is a contemplative lustrum behind the glass, which is a mute consort of the boiling joy that cries out to it with arms upraised and crowned in a fist, to the twin that looks out through that window. It is a small victory dressed in time won, and that the first conscience jealously guards in the memory of a child born into the world for the second time. And I ask myself at every instant: How long will the memory last? That one that assaults the head every time a doubt arises, every time it takes refuge in the moment that celebrates being alive; The one that becomes the shadow of your own Cronos! In the guardian of the Ego, that dresses you before the gaze of God... Forever and ever.