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ArtistNeon Tempest of the Forsaken Soul Beneath the storm of violet-glass and chrome, A maiden drenched in lilac-rose despair, Her eyes like neon amethyst, a dome Of glowing sorrow in the electric air. Her corset shimmers, cyan and fuchsia blaze, Each curve a prism in the lightning’s gleam, The rain-slick streets ignite in spectral haze, Reflections pulse like circuits in a dream. Style of Jason Brooks. The heavens churn in jade and indigo fire, While violet torrents strike the neoned ground, A rainbow streak of bioluminescent pyre Cuts through the storm with spectral light unbound. Yet in this tempest, sorrow holds her near, A figure framed in chaos, sharp and bright, Her melancholy hums with radiant fear, A cyber-song of beauty lost to night.
A striking figure stands in a neon-lit urban setting, wearing a corset and flowing skirt. Her long, vibrant purple hair contrasts with the dark, rainy atmosphere, creating a captivating, mysterious vibe.