Prompt: Our Father, who art in heaven above,
Hallowed be Thy name, full of love.
Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done,
On earth as it is in heaven's sun.
Give us this day our daily bread,
Sustenance for both heart and head.
Forgive our trespasses, as we forgive,
In Your grace, may we eternally live.
Lead us not into temptation's snare,
Keep us safe with Your tender care.
Deliver us from evil's dark hour,
Grant us strength and heavenly power.
For Thine is the kingdom, glory, and might,
Forever and ever, a beacon of light.
Amen, we pray with faith so true,
The Lord's Prayer, a treasure anew.
Prompt: In the land of Michigan, up in the north,
Lies a culinary treasure, of great worth.
A pastie so hearty, with flavors divine,
A delight for the taste buds, a savory find.
With pastry crust, so golden and flaky,
And a filling so rich, it's never too shaky.
Beef, potatoes, and veggies inside,
A warm and comforting meal to abide.
Baked to perfection, in a cozy kitchen,
A treat that warms, with each savory bite-in.
A comfort food, for winter's chill,
A northern Michigan delight, that always thrills.
From Mackinaw to Traverse City's shores,
The pastie's charm, the taste explores.
A favorite dish, of locals and more,
A culinary gem, to truly adore.
So if you're up north, in Michigan's land,
Don't miss the pastie, it's truly grand.
A taste of comfort, a delight so true,
A northern Michigan treasure, just for you!
Prompt: A journey began, long ago,
Of a people seeking a new tomorrow.
A quest for freedom, a path to tread,
Leaving behind a life they once led.
With hearts afire and spirits bright,
They set forth into the dark of night.
Through deserts vast and unknown lands,
They marched with faith, in God's hands.
With Moses as their guiding light,
They braved the trials, day and night.
Their faith unwavering, their hope so strong,
They sang with joy, a victory song.
Through parted seas and manna from above,
They found their strength, through faith and love.
They carried on, through trials and pain,
Determined to find a new domain.
Their exodus, a journey of hope,
A story of resilience, beyond the scope.
A testament to the human spirit's might,
A beacon of hope, in the darkest night.
So let us remember, this tale of old,
Of a journey embarked, with courage bold.
A reminder of the power to endure,
And find our way, with faith so pure.
Prompt: Behold the cup, so bright and fine,
A treasure rare, a sight divine.
Its shimmering silver, polished bright,
Reflecting joy, and gleaming light.
A vessel crafted, with skillful hand,
A masterpiece, so truly grand.
Its curves and edges, smooth and sleek,
A work of art, a treasure to seek.
The cup adorns, a royal feast,
A centerpiece, fit for a feast.
Its gleaming surface, a precious sight,
Heralding moments, pure delight.
It's raised in toast, with joy and cheer,
A symbol of triumph, loud and clear.
A cup of victory, a mark of grace,
Embodying glory, in its radiant embrace.
But more than just, a symbol of wealth,
The cup holds memories, beyond mere stealth.
It's filled with love, and cherished lore,
A legacy passed down, from days of yore.
So raise a glass, to the silver cup,
A symbol of honor, and memories' up.
A treasure cherished, for ages to be,
The glorious silver cup, for all to see.
Prompt: Sailing tall, o' mighty ship,
Across the seas, on a daring trip.
With billowing sails and a proud mast,
You brave the waves, unsurpassed.
Your bow cuts through the ocean's spray,
As you navigate, night and day.
A beacon of strength, a sight to behold,
With stories to tell, yet untold.
Your decks are alive with a bustling crew,
Working in harmony, as if on cue.
Hoisting sails, tying knots, and manning the helm,
Guiding you through the watery realm.
You've weathered storms and battled gales,
Withstood the tests, unfurled your sails.
Through distant lands and uncharted seas,
You've sailed with grace, as if with ease.
O' mighty ship, a symbol of might,
A majestic sight, a breathtaking sight.
A testament to man's quest for the unknown,
Sailing tall, with a heart of stone.
So onward you sail, with purpose and pride,
Across the oceans, far and wide.
A timeless wonder, a legacy grand,
A tall ship, sailing to a distant land.
Prompt: Dark clouds shroud the sky with dread,
A sense of doom, a world misled.
The end of days, so long foretold,
Unfolding now, as fate unfolds.
The earth convulses, trembles in fear,
As fires rage, drawing near and near.
Volcanoes erupt, the ground shakes,
The apocalypse, no one can mistake.
The seas rise up with tidal force,
Engulfing lands without remorse.
A deluge spreads, devouring all,
As kingdoms crumble, and empires fall.
Panic grips the hearts of men,
As chaos reigns, beyond their ken.
No sanctuary left to find,
In this cataclysmic, apocalyptic grind.
Yet in the midst of darkness' plight,
A glimmer of hope, a flicker of light.
For amidst the ruins, a new dawn gleams,
A chance for redemption, beyond the screams.
As survivors rise with steadfast might,
To rebuild a world, once bathed in blight.
With unity, courage, and hope anew,
A future beckons, vibrant and true.
For from the ashes, a new world blooms,
A testament to human resilience, it looms.
The apocalypse, a chapter closed,
As a brighter future is now composed.
Prompt: A gold panner by the stream,
Chasing riches, just a dream,
With pan in hand and heart aflutter,
He wades in water, muddy, utter.
With eyes that gleam, he scans the sand,
Hopes and dreams held in his hand,
Each glint and glimmer, a precious sight,
A treasure waiting, golden and bright.
He sifts and shakes with steady hand,
In search of fortune, rich and grand,
His dreams alive, his heart aglow,
As he pans for gold, with every throw.
Through toil and sweat, he carries on,
His resolve unwavering, from dawn to dawn,
For the glittering gold, he digs and delves,
With a heart that beats, and dreams that swells.
Though challenges come, and setbacks near,
He never falters, never fears,
For in his heart, a passion burns,
A gold panner, with lessons learned.
And when the sun sets low and slow,
He smiles, for he has much to show,
A heart of gold, a soul of fire,
A treasure found, his heart's desire.
So, let us raise a toast and cheer,
To the gold panner, bold and dear,
A seeker of dreams, a heart so pure,
A legend written, forever endure.
Prompt: An old yo-yo, weathered and worn,
A cherished toy, since he was born,
A simple pleasure, a childhood delight,
A source of joy, from morning till night.
With skillful flicks of his wrist,
He made the yo-yo spin and twist,
Intricate tricks, he'd proudly show,
With practiced moves, he'd let it go.
Up and down, it would dance and play,
A timeless toy, in a modern day,
Bringing laughter, bringing fun,
In the summer's warmth, or winter's sun.
He'd walk the dog, and rock the cradle,
Around the world, with skill so stable,
The yo-yo, a constant companion,
A source of endless fascination.
Through the years, it stood the test,
With dents and scratches, it was blessed,
A treasure of memories, a cherished toy,
That brought him laughter, and endless joy.
Prompt: In a world of mysteries and eerie lore,
One man dared to venture, to explore,
The unknown realms of ghostly realms,
With courage and curiosity at the helm.
He was a seeker of the supernatural,
With gadgets, tools, and a heart so full,
Of determination and unwavering might,
To uncover truths hidden in the night.
Equipped with EVP recorders and EMF meters,
He delved into the unknown, uncovering mysteries,
He braved abandoned asylums and haunted houses,
To seek the truth behind ghostly rouses.
With a keen eye for details, he'd investigate,
Each eerie phenomenon he'd carefully evaluate,
Searching for answers to unexplained events,
Using science and reason, with no pretense.
He'd spend hours in the dark, listening for sounds,
Scouring for clues, going beyond the bounds,
Of what others would dare to explore,
In his quest for the truth, he'd always soar.
He'd face chilling cold spots and phantom whispers,
Documenting every anomaly, with no blisters,
Unraveling stories of the paranormal,
Prompt: In a small town nestled down the road,
Stood a BBQ joint with a sign that glowed,
"The Rib BBQ King" it boldly said,
Where savory scents danced in the air like a thread.
The smoker roared with a fiery blaze,
As the Pitmaster cooked in smoky haze,
With a secret rub and a special sauce,
His culinary skills were true and boss.
His ribs were tender, falling off the bone,
Each bite a flavor explosion all on its own,
Juicy and succulent, a mouthwatering treat,
That made folks travel from miles to eat.
His BBQ pit was his kingdom and throne,
Where he ruled with spatula, knife, and bone,
He'd flip and baste, and smoke and grill,
His passion for BBQ, an unquenchable thrill.
Customers flocked from far and wide,
For a taste of the ribs that made them sigh,
They'd line up, hungry and eager to try,
The Rib BBQ King's delectable supply.
The sauce was tangy, with a hint of sweet,
A masterpiece that made taste buds meet,
The meat was smoky, with flavors divine,
Leaving patrons craving more every time.
With a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye,
Prompt: Amidst the heaps of scrap and steel,
A dog with eyes of hardened zeal,
A guardian fierce, a loyal friend,
Whose story's one that's sure to rend.
A rusty coat, a crooked tail,
A heart so big, it could not fail,
To brave the years of dirt and grime,
A jewel buried in the grime.
Abandoned, left to fend alone,
He found his way to this junkyard home,
Where towering piles of metal lie,
Beneath the vast and open sky.
He barks and growls with all his might,
Keeping watch through the darkest night,
A sentinel with tireless stride,
In this desolate place, his pride.
But in his eyes, a sorrow lingers,
As he recalls his days of fingers,
The human touch, the tender care,
A memory too much to bear.
He dreams of warmth, of gentle hands,
Of love that he can't understand,
For he was cast away with scorn,
Left to brave the junkyard's thorn.
But in his heart, a flicker burns,
A hope that someday he'll discern,
A glimmer of that long-lost grace,
In this forsaken, desolate place.
Prompt: In the twilight of a crimson sky,
As stars emerge, and day bids goodbye,
A trumpet sounds, resounding clear,
Announcing a moment both far and near.
A chorus of angels begins to sing,
Their voices echoing, taking wing,
As souls arise, in awe and wonder,
Their hearts now free from earthly plunder.
The righteous ones, both young and old,
Embrace the joy, their faith foretold,
Their bodies transformed, glorified,
In the rapture's bliss, they now reside.
With arms outstretched, they reach the skies,
No more pain, no more goodbyes,
In the presence of the King of Kings,
They raise their voices, and heaven sings.
The earth below, now left behind,
As they ascend, their souls entwined,
In ecstasy, they soar and rise,
To meet their Savior in the skies.
Oh, what a sight, a wondrous sight,
As darkness fades, and hope takes flight,
The rapture's call, so long foretold,
Now realized, a story bold.
So let us strive, with faith and grace,
To run the race, and seek His face,
And when that day dawns, pure and bright,
May we be counted among the flight.
Prompt: In a distant land, a legend's told,
Of a ruler feared, cruel and bold,
A man of power, ruthless and dire,
Known far and wide as Vlad the Impaler.
With castle walls, tall and grand,
He ruled with an iron, blood-stained hand,
His enemies quivered in fear and dread,
For tales of his brutality were widely spread.
Impaling stakes, a gruesome sight,
Lined the roads, both day and night,
A brutal warning, a fearsome sight,
Of Vlad's wrath, a relentless fight.
His rule was harsh, his methods cruel,
To keep his realm in an iron rule,
His people lived in constant fear,
For Vlad's wrath was always near.
But whispers spread, of a darker side,
Of Vlad's past, where darkness lied,
A thirst for vengeance, a heart of ice,
A soul consumed by a deadly vice.
His enemies trembled, but so did his kin,
For Vlad's bloodlust knew no sin,
His own brother, his own kin,
Met the same fate, impaled on a pin.
Yet Vlad's rule, though feared and dread,
Was not without a price to be paid,
For vengeance sought, had its toll,
Prompt: In Kentucky, where the bluegrass grows,
There's a rhythm in the air, a tale that flows,
A story of rain that falls from the sky,
A melancholic melody that makes you sigh.
The drops dance on rooftops, gently kiss the ground,
Creating a symphony, with a soothing sound,
The patter on the leaves, a lullaby refrain,
In Kentucky rain, a song of nature's gain.
The fields and forests, refreshed and renewed,
As raindrops cleanse, a sight to be viewed,
The scent of petrichor fills the air,
A fragrance of earth, both sweet and rare.
The rivers swell, a rushing flow,
As Kentucky rain, continues to grow,
Nourishing the land, with life anew,
A gift from above, a blessing so true.
In the midst of storms, or softest drizzle,
Kentucky rain, an enchanting fizzle,
A reminder of nature's beauty and grace,
A symphony of water, in a mystical place.
Prompt: At Jim Beam Distillery, the air is sweet,
With the scent of whiskey, a tempting treat,
The barrels rest, aging with care,
In the hallowed halls, a whiskey lover's lair.
The copper stills, polished and bright,
Crafting liquid gold, a true delight,
With bubbling mash and fiery heat,
Creating flavors that are rich and sweet.
The master distillers, with skilled precision,
Tend to each batch, their whiskey's mission,
A labor of love, a time-honored craft,
Creating libations that are sure to last.
The aroma wafts, a tantalizing lure,
Drawing whiskey enthusiasts, that's for sure,
To sample sips of amber hue,
A symphony of flavors, complex and true.
In the heart of Kentucky, a whiskey dream,
At Jim Beam Distillery, a sensory scheme,
Where history and tradition intertwine,
Crafting spirits that truly shine.
So raise a glass to this iconic place,
Where whiskey flows with elegance and grace,
Jim Beam Distillery, a legendary name,
A whiskey lover's haven, a place of fame.
Prompt: In the library's hallowed hall,
Stands a librarian, statuesque and tall,
Her glasses perched upon her nose,
Her sensuous curves in tailored clothes.
Her voice a husky, sultry purr,
Her words a temptation to connoisseurs,
As she whispers bookish lore,
Her beauty and brains, an allure.
Her fingers trace along the spines,
Caressing words, igniting minds,
Her librarian's cardigan, a tease,
Hiding secrets that no one sees.
Her eyes, a smoldering ember,
Her laughter a sensual September,
With knowledge as her aphrodisiac,
She stirs up fantasies, both wild and erotic.
Her presence electrifies the air,
Her wit and charm beyond compare,
A sexy librarian, a captivating sight,
A bookish temptress, igniting the night.
Prompt: In '85, a time so bright,
When neon glowed throughout the night,
Synth-pop beats, big hair and flair,
A decade where we dared to dare.
Leg warmers, scrunchies, acid-wash jeans,
Breakdancing moves, so fresh and keen,
Rubik's cubes, Pac-Man, cassette tapes,
A time when fashion had no brakes.
Michael Jackson's moonwalk thrilled the crowd,
Madonna's style left us wowed,
Prince and Bowie, icons bold,
Their music stories never told.
John Hughes movies, teen romance,
Brat Pack stars in a wild dance,
"Back to the Future," time travel fun,
"Ghostbusters" chasing ghosts on the run.
MTV, the birth of VJs,
Music videos in a dazzling craze,
Culture shifting, a vibrant scene,
The '80s, a neon dream machine.
So let's go back to '85,
With nostalgia's warmth, we'll come alive,
A time that's etched in memory's drive,
A colorful era that continues to thrive.
Prompt: A creature once divine, with wings of light,
Now roams alone, banished from the height,
His halo dimmed, his grace laid low,
A fallen angel, lost in woe.
He once soared high, with eyes that gleamed,
But now he's cast into a world unseen,
His beauty marred, his heart in pain,
A fallen angel, in shadows lain.
Once favored by the heavens above,
Now cast down, a fallen dove,
He seeks redemption, a path to rise,
A fallen angel, with tears in his eyes.
But darkness whispers, temptation calls,
His wings are tainted, his soul it mauls,
He wrestles with demons, battles within,
A fallen angel, marked by his sin.
Yet hope still flickers, a guiding light,
A chance for him to make things right,
To rise once more, with newfound grace,
A fallen angel, seeking a new place.
Prompt: An ominous figure, dark and deep,
A haunting presence, one cannot sweep.
A silhouette that lingers, a shadow's lurk,
A mystery shrouded, a sense of murk.
Its form obscure, its purpose unknown,
A presence felt, though never shown.
A whisper in the wind, a chill down the spine,
An enigma, a puzzle, a riddle to divine.
It lurks in corners, it hides in the night,
A specter of darkness, a foreboding sight.
Its presence looms, casting an eerie pall,
A sense of unease, a silent thrall.
"The Shadow's Lurk" with secrets untold,
A figure in the dark, a story yet to unfold.
A phantom, a phantom, a ghostly tale,
A mystery to solve, a riddle to unveil.
Prompt: In the corner of the room it stands,
An old grandfather clock with weathered hands.
Its wooden frame shows signs of age,
A relic from a bygone stage.
Its pendulum swings with a gentle sway,
Marking the moments that slip away.
But its chimes are muted, its gears worn thin,
The passage of time has taken its toll, within.
Once a prized possession, a cherished treasure,
Now it stands broken, but still with measure.
Its face tells tales of days long past,
Of memories cherished, they still will last.
The intricate carvings, the ornate design,
A testament to craftsmanship divine.
Though time has taken its toll, it's true,
The old clock's beauty still shines through.
A reminder of days that used to be,
A symbol of time's relentless decree.
"The Timeless Relic" with stories to tell,
A broken clock, yet it casts its spell.
For in its cracks and faded face,
Lies history's mark, a silent grace.
A reminder of life's fleeting tick-tock,
The old, broken down grandfather clock.
Prompt: A peacock struts with pride and grace,
With feathers fanned in a stunning display.
Its iridescent hues, a vibrant cascade,
A sight to behold, a mesmerizing parade.
With plumage vivid, like a painter's dream,
A royal blue, a lustrous green.
Adorned with eyes that gleam and glow,
A symphony of colors in a regal show.
It spreads its tail in a grand embrace,
A peacock's courtship, a waltzing grace.
With feathers raised in a fan so wide,
It captivates all with its majestic pride.
A symbol of beauty, of poise and grace,
A peacock struts, its plumes in place.
A sight to behold, a natural treasure,
A regal bird, beyond measure.
"Majestic Plumage" in full display,
A peacock's charm, in a grand ballet.
A wonder of nature, a sight so rare,
A peacock's splendor, beyond compare.
Prompt: Upon the cliffs, by the roaring sea,
A bird with charm and grace, I see.
With black and white, and orange beak,
A puffin takes a daring leap.
From lofty heights, it spreads its wings,
And in mid-air, it freely sings.
With flapping wings, it dives headlong,
In search of fish, swift and strong.
Beneath the waves, a world unknown,
Where puffins dance and fish are shown.
With skillful beak and nimble flight,
They catch their prey with sheer delight.
Back to the cliffs, with fish in tow,
The puffin lands, its catch to show.
With a beaming beak and feathers preened,
It's a majestic sight, it's keen.
"The Puffin's Dance" a grand display,
Of nature's beauty in full array.
A bird so bold, a sea's delight,
A puffin's grace, a wondrous sight!
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.
125w
125w
