Prompt: The old wood stove, a timeless treasure,
Bringing warmth to hearts without measure.
Its cast iron frame, a sturdy frame,
Holds memories of a bygone flame.
Through long winter nights it roared,
Filling the room with heat adored.
Its crackling embers, a cozy glow,
Chasing away the winter's icy woe.
With logs stacked high and flames aglow,
It cooked meals with a fiery show.
A kettle steamed, a teapot hummed,
Aromatic scents, a comforting sum.
A gathering place, a heart of the home,
Where stories were shared and hearts did roam.
Families huddled, hands outstretched,
Basking in the warmth, truly fetched.
Generations passed, yet it remained,
A symbol of resilience, strength ingrained.
The old wood stove, a cherished heirloom,
A beacon of comfort in every room.
Though now it rests, its fire gone dim,
Its legacy lives on, a cherished hymn.
The memories made, the tales it told,
Prompt: The sea swept shore with salty spray,
A dance of waves in a rhythmic play.
Gulls on the wind, soaring high,
As the ocean's beauty caught the eye.
Sand between my toes, cool and wet,
The ocean's touch, a memory I won't forget.
A world of wonder, a timeless scene,
Where nature's beauty reigns supreme.
The sea's embrace, a salty kiss,
A reminder of nature's eternal bliss.
Sea creatures darting in the blue,
A hidden world, mysterious and true.
With every wave that crashes near,
The sea's vastness fills me with awe and cheer.
A symphony of sights, sounds, and scent,
A treasure of nature, so magnificent.
The sea swept shore, a canvas grand,
A masterpiece of nature's hand.
A place where wonders never cease,
A sanctuary of serenity and peace.
Prompt: With wrench in hand and oil-stained clothes,
The mechanic works where the engine roars.
Fixing, tweaking, with skill and grace,
A master of gears in a grease-streaked place.
From car to car, the expert moves,
Diagnosing troubles and finding clues.
With keen eyes and steady hands,
He mends the machines with his repairman's plans.
The workshop echoes with clanks and clangs,
As the mechanic's expertise bangs and bangs.
He restores the engines to their prime,
A master craftsman, ahead of his time.
His tools are his allies, his workshop his domain,
He takes pride in his work, with no refrain.
Fixing, restoring, with passion and might,
The mechanic's skills are a wondrous sight.
A master of the mechanical art,
He mends the broken, he mends the heart.
With skill and knowledge, he makes things right,
The mechanic, a true guiding light.
Prompt: A red satin dress, a sight to behold,
A garment of elegance, worth its weight in gold.
Its fabric smooth, with a lustrous sheen,
A symbol of glamour, fit for a queen.
The color red, vibrant and bold,
Like fiery embers, or a tale yet untold.
It catches the light, with a radiant glow,
A dress that commands attention, wherever it may go.
Its silhouette, tailored to perfection,
A flattering cut, a captivating direction.
It hugs the curves, with a graceful flair,
A dress that makes heads turn, and people stare.
Worn with confidence, a statement of style,
A red satin dress, that makes hearts smile.
It exudes allure, and a touch of mystique,
A dress that makes you feel powerful and chic.
Whether it's for a special occasion or a romantic date,
A red satin dress, a choice that's never too late.
It speaks of passion, and a bold sense of fashion,
A dress that leaves an impression, with utmost satisfaction.
So slip into that dress, with poise and grace,
Embrace its beauty, and let it embrace.
For a red satin dress, a timeless treasure,
A symbol of elegance, and a fashion pleasure.
Prompt: a very beautiful princess with a dress of light and stars, seen from the back, light and glittering and magic diamond shine, in the night but with a strange phosphorescent fluorescent light, watching the starry sky, add color, magical, ethereal, highly detailed, digital painting, extremely detailed, fantasy, intricate, 8k, portrait, very attractive ,beautiful, dynamic lighting, poster, imperial colors, close up, high definition, colourful ,cinematic postprocessing, pixel art
Prompt: In the blink of an eye, a moment's surprise,
Believers vanish, taken to the skies,
A divine event, mysterious and grand,
The Rapture comes, as predestined and planned.
Those who were faithful, lifted away,
To meet their Savior without delay,
Caught up in clouds, in glory and awe,
Joined with the Lord, without a flaw.
Left behind, the world in wonder,
As souls departed, like distant thunder,
Empty shells, bodies without souls,
Inquiry and speculation take their tolls.
Unanswered questions, bewildered minds,
Seeking answers, trying to find,
The truth behind this supernatural scene,
The Rapture, a phenomenon unforeseen.
The world now changed, a paradigm shift,
A time of tribulation, spirits adrift,
With darkness reigning, evil unleashed,
As the world falls into turmoil, its future breached.
Yet hope remains, for those who stay,
Seeking solace, seeking the way,
To overcome, to endure the strife,
To find redemption in this new life.
For the Rapture, a call to prepare,
To heed the warning, to be aware,
T
Prompt: Dark clouds gather, shadows loom,
The world descends into impending doom,
A time of trials, a period of pain,
A prophecy fulfilled, a dire refrain.
Wars and plagues, disasters untold,
Unleashed upon the land, uncontrolled,
Nations clash, chaos unfurls,
A time of tribulation, shaking the world.
Famines strike, hunger spreads,
People suffer, with empty beds,
Fear and anguish, hearts in despair,
As the world is caught in an ominous snare.
Faith is tested, souls are tried,
As humanity's fate seems to be denied,
But hope persists, a flickering light,
Guiding those who seek to make things right.
Amidst the darkness, a glimmer of grace,
A promise of redemption, a saving embrace,
For beyond the turmoil, a new dawn will rise,
A triumphant end to the Tribulation's cries.
So hold on tight, endure the plight,
For in the end, there'll be a new sight,
A world renewed, a future bright,
After the Tribulation's challenging fight.
Prompt: Time is on my side, they say,
A steadfast ally, come what may,
A patient companion, a faithful friend,
On whom I can always depend.
In moments of joy or moments of strife,
Time marches on with rhythm and life,
A constant presence, unwavering and true,
Guiding me forward, as moments accrue.
Time gives me chances to learn and grow,
To stumble, rise, and let my spirit show,
To chase my dreams with unwavering zeal,
To make my mark and express my real.
Time whispers wisdom in every year,
Teaching me lessons, both far and near,
With each passing day, I gain new insight,
Time's gentle guidance, a guiding light.
Time heals wounds and mends the heart,
Allows for healing, a brand new start,
Bringing perspective and clarity,
A balm for wounds, soothed tenderly.
But time can also slip away,
A reminder to make the most of each day,
To live with purpose, passion, and pride,
For time is precious, an eternal tide.
So I'll cherish the moments, big and small,
Embrace the present, give it my all,
With time as my ally, by my side,
I'll journey forward, with love as my guide.
Prompt: Digital painting by Tim Charllies of an angel with a small clock at his back standing above a city, reminding us to spread the gospel before end-time approaches. In the sky there’s a supernatural clock with beautiful purple wings.
Prompt: Amadeus, a genius of his time,
Mozart's music, so sublime.
A prodigy with a gift so rare,
Composing melodies beyond compare.
From piano keys to symphony halls,
His music echoed through grandiose walls.
A maestro with a vision unique,
Creating masterpieces that would mystique.
Notes danced upon the page,
In a symphonic, harmonious rage.
A symphony of sound and soul,
Expressing emotions beyond control.
From "Eine Kleine Nachtmusik" to "Requiem Mass",
Each composition, a musical class.
With passion and brilliance that shone so bright,
Amadeus' music, a beacon of light.
But his life, a tale of joys and sorrows,
A restless spirit, seeking tomorrows.
Struggling with fame and inner strife,
Yet leaving a legacy that still brings life.
Amadeus, a legend of music's lore,
His melodies linger forevermore.
A maestro whose music will never fade,
Inspirational, eternal, and grandly made.
Prompt: Invisible touch, oh, so slight,
Unseen by all, a hidden sight,
A whisper's breeze, a gentle graze,
Unnoticed, yet it leaves a trace.
A tender caress, a fleeting brush,
A touch that lingers, a silent hush,
It speaks without words, conveys so much,
A magic spell, a heartfelt touch.
Invisible touch, mysterious art,
It stirs the soul, it moves the heart,
It connects us all, though unseen,
A force that's felt, yet remains unseen.
Invisible touch, a subtle force,
It shapes our lives, takes its own course,
A gentle nudge, a guiding hand,
A touch that's felt throughout the land.
Invisible touch, a gift so rare,
It shows we're human, it makes us care,
For in its presence, we feel alive,
A touch that's felt, though it may hide.
So cherish it well, this unseen power,
The magic touch, in every hour,
For it's a gift, a precious art,
The invisible touch, that moves the heart.
Prompt: An old rusty child's bike, with stories to tell,
Its paint faded, its tires worn, a nostalgic spell,
Abandoned in a corner, forgotten and forlorn,
A relic of the past, weathered and worn.
Once a prized possession, a source of delight,
Ridden with glee, under the sun's warm light,
Adventures in the neighborhood, with friends by your side,
Pedaling with laughter, on a joyful ride.
But time has taken its toll, the rust has set in,
The handlebars crooked, the frame showing its skin,
Its glory days gone, but memories remain,
Of carefree childhood, a simpler terrain.
Perhaps a first taste of freedom, a taste of speed,
A symbol of independence, a childhood need,
A reminder of simpler times, a treasure from the past,
A weathered relic, that continues to cast,
A nostalgic charm, a sentimental grace,
A symbol of resilience, standing in its place,
Though rusty and old, it still holds its charm,
The old child's bike, a memory's arm.
Prompt: curvaceous nun cosplay female, blond long messy hair, woman full body, athletic build, seductive, large breasts, full figure, shapely, in church, black & white nun costume scantly clad,
Prompt: A thrill-seeker on two wheels,
Riding trails, the heart reveals.
Through rugged terrain, they race,
Chasing nature's scenic grace.
Pedals spinning, gears shifting,
Adrenaline pumping, spirits lifting.
Jumping roots, dodging rocks,
Breathing in the mountain air, it unlocks.
Uphill climbs, a test of strength,
The challenge embraced, no length.
Downhill descents, a thrilling ride,
With speed and skill, they glide.
Through forests dense, and meadows wide,
The mountain biker, a force to ride.
With mud and sweat, and dirt and dust,
They conquer trails, with passion robust.
A connection to nature, in every turn,
A symphony of motion, a thrill to learn.
In harmony with the trail, they flow,
With every jump and drop, they show.
The mountain biker, a free spirit,
Embracing adventure, they merit.
A love for the ride, a quest for more,
The mountain biker, a true explorer.
Prompt: On the vast plains of the wild west,
Roamed a herd of buffalo, at their best.
Majestic beasts, in numbers grand,
A sight to behold, across the land.
Their hooves thundered, as they ran,
A thunderous symphony, a natural plan.
Their shaggy coats, a rugged grace,
A symbol of resilience, in an untamed place.
They grazed on grasses, so lush and green,
A cycle of life, a timeless scene.
Their horns curved, their eyes alert,
A symbol of strength, a primal assert.
In the herd, they found their might,
A community strong, day and night.
They watched out for each other's back,
In unity, they stayed on track.
Through changing seasons, they would roam,
Across wide plains, they'd call their home.
From dawn to dusk, they'd graze and play,
In nature's rhythm, they'd dance and sway.
Their existence, a vital part,
Of the ecosystem, a beating heart.
They shaped the land, their presence known,
A legacy left, widely shown.
But as time passed, their numbers dwindled,
A loss so great, their fate was kindled.
Human progress, and greed's demand,
Disrupted nature's balanced hand.
Now we remember, the herd of old,
Their mighty presence, their story told.
Prompt: In a time long ago, in the ancient past,
Lived a man so primal, his ways were vast.
He roamed the earth, a nomadic soul,
Unfazed by civilization's modern toll.
With skin of bronze, and hair unkempt,
A rugged figure, wild and unkempt.
His home was nature, his shelter crude,
A cave his refuge, a life so crude.
He hunted with skill, with spears in hand,
Tracking prey across the untamed land.
His senses sharp, his instincts keen,
A primal hunter, a wilderness scene.
He painted on walls, with colors bold,
Leaving stories told, from days of old.
Symbols and signs, a language pure,
A communication, timeless and sure.
He made fire dance, with sparks and flame,
Harnessing its power, a primal claim.
It kept him warm, it cooked his food,
A force of nature, a tool so crude.
He lived in tune, with nature's ways,
With reverence for the nights and days.
He honored earth, the sky, the trees,
In harmony with the gentle breeze.
Though life was tough, his spirit free,
He lived in harmony, with simplicity.
A glimpse of our past, a primal spark,
The caveman's world, so wild and stark.
Prompt: Beautiful Church in summer, pine tree, flowers, light little clouds Oil on canvas, Vincent Van Gogh, Auguste Renoir, Michael Whelan, Z. L. Feng, thick paint, bright vivid colors 64K, UHD
Prompt: beautiful italian lady in a beautiful bright dress strutting down Italian Street at golden sunset, pinup and Gustav Klimt style mixed, highly detailed and intricate, watercolor and black ink, colorful splashes of watercolor for increased interest
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.
