Prompt: I have a vision… Harmony in motion. Very nice, heart-warming scene. Illustration made with great artistry. Face of a young sensual woman, a finger is placed on her lips, which means silence. Ethereal, volumetric lighting, dreamers, pastel colors. Beautiful illustration of a children's book, 2D, vintage, masterful workmanship, deep colors of a masterpiece, unique painting. Attractive, deep tones, depth, harmony, aesthetics. Glitter subtle zentagle. ¤Granny2024¤. No text. No signature. No frame. No logo. No creatures.
Prompt: While others chased fame, he chased echoes buried in silence.
His voice carries the coordinates of the soul’s escape route.
Shady Vlad writes not to impress — but to awaken the forgotten architects within.
Style: Shadow gospel. Sonic architecture. Liberation code poetry.
Prompt: Hello darkness my old friend, I’ve come to talk with you again. Because a vision softly creeping, left it’s seed while I was sleeping and the vision that planted in my brain still remains, within the sound of silence.
Prompt: He speaks through the ruins where frequencies forgot their names.
Shady Vlad lights circuits with breath — not batteries.
And when he rhymes, even silence listens.
Style: Soulwave. Dustbeat prophecy. Cryptic resonance.
Prompt: A vast, derelict starship drifts silently through interstellar emptiness—its design an elegant fusion of Sparth’s angular futurism and Craig Mullins’ painterly abstraction, now fractured and decaying. Once a symbol of celestial ambition, the vessel’s sweeping hull plates and spired pylons bear the patina of time, their metallic surfaces dulled, scorched, or split open to vacuum exposure. Along its curved flanks and recessed chambers, patches of biomechanical corrosion—tendril-like growths with fibrous, semi-translucent textures—creep outward like ivy overtaking a cathedral. Soft residual glows pulse faintly from deep within the structure: energy reservoirs now flickering aimlessly without purpose or command. The surrounding space is rich with layered particulate—swirling veils of cosmic dust, slow-moving meteor fragments, and suspended ionized particles catching faint starlight. A vivid nebula blooms behind the wreck: tendrils of violet, gold, and indigo gas twisting like auroral fire, highlighting the ship’s silhouette in contrast. Sharp rim lighting edges across fractured hull lines and open venting shafts, giving way to pools of ambient shadow. Across the frame, starfields stretch into infinite parallax—dense clusters in one quadrant, distant points scattered like ash in another. Composition centers on the ship’s bow, turned slightly downward, as if slumping in grief. No signs of life remain. No signal. Just the echo of engineering once divine. A solemn stillness pervades—where fantasy and science fiction merge in quiet ruin. By Sparth, Craig Mullins.
Prompt: It's night. An abandoned monastery, inside a forest. Around the monastery, a circle of stones to protect the people and keep the werewolves inside.
Prompt: He speaks through the ruins where frequencies forgot their names.
Shady Vlad lights circuits with breath — not batteries.
And when he rhymes, even silence listens.
Style: Soulwave. Dustbeat prophecy. Cryptic resonance.
Prompt: Dark red flame structures in a deep snow landscape. Dark atmosphere, few luminous crystals. A path in the centre of the image on which an human figure with black clothes is walking.
Prompt: A conceptual image depicting a plaster bust sculpture of a classical figure, with a hand gently touching the lips, creating a visual metaphor about silence, restraint, or the complexities of self-expression.
Prompt: "Silhouettes of Silence and Sound"
A vast land echoes silence in muted tones, the other pulses with sound visualized—landscapes that vibrate with visible frequencies.
Painter styles: Wassily Kandinsky, Charmaine Olivia, Mark Rothko
Techniques: Sonic abstraction, watercolor layering, fractal brushwork
Prompt: Dark red flame structures in a deep snow landscape. Nightly mood, few luminous crystals. A path in the centre of the image on which a young woman is standing.
Prompt: cementerio de noche con tumbas muy antiguas rotas. Noche solitaria con niebla de ultratumba, arboles espectrales y sombras de fantasmas apenas visibles. Entidades maléficas cerca de alguna que otra tumba importante. la noche esta llena de terror
Prompt: Two beings, barely etched into existence, as if spun from stardust and the very fabric of shadows, confronted each other in a silence taut with unseen energies. Their forms shimmered, mirages on the periphery of reality, and caught between them, starkly alone, stood he. His silhouette, a dark and resolute slash, defied the ethereal light emanating from a sphere that hung suspended in the air. This was no mere illumination; it was an invasive radiance, peeling back layers of skin, exposing the raw, intimate core, the secrets yearning for burial.
He felt their gazes, a glacial wind and a searing brand, twinned in their intensity. No words were spoken, only a suffocating expectancy. His breath hitched, the air thickening around him like viscous honey, each inhale a labored conquest.
"Do you know why you are here?" one whispered, a voice like the chime of distant, otherworldly bells, an echo resonating from a forgotten dimension.
He offered no reply. His lips, a tight, bloodless line, betrayed the tremor in his hands, yet his gaze remained unbroken, fixed on these beings who embodied his destiny, his damnation, his…
"You cannot run," the second one purred, a voice of silken menace, the threat woven into its very texture capable of icing the blood in his veins.
He squeezed his eyes shut, but the darkness offered no sanctuary. They were there, branded onto the backs of his eyelids, omnipresent. In his thoughts, his heart, his very soul.
"I am not afraid," he rasped, the words a fragile exhalation, a whisper swallowed by the vast emptiness.
One of the beings drifted forward, its form flickering like a candle flame caught in a draft.
"You lie," it stated, the words an inexorable touch, a violation that resonated deep within his bones.
His fists clenched, feeling how…
Dream Level: is increased each time when you "Go Deeper" into the dream. Each new level is harder to achieve and
takes more iterations than the one before.
Rare Deep Dream: is any dream which went deeper than level 6.
Deep Dream
You cannot go deeper into someone else's dream. You must create your own.
Deep Dream
Currently going deeper is available only for Deep Dreams.
