Placeholder: the Tribe flies high like a dove the Tribe flies high like a dove

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@generalpha

Prompt

the Tribe flies high like a dove

25 days ago

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Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

1248 × 832

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The Jesus Incident
[art by Zdzisław Beksiński] In the ethereal stillness of the celestial realm, Metatron, the chief of winged angels, descended. His radiant wings shimmered like starlight, casting a celestial glow across the heavens. Suddenly, a tremor rippled through creation. God struck the three hundred and ninety heavens, and they quaked in reverent awe. From His eyes, tears flowed—hot as molten fire—cascading down like fiery rain into the vast ocean below. The waters stirred, roiling with sorrow as waves ign
[art by Jack Davis] Jacob wrestling with angel
[art by Norman Rockwell] In a world where the sky is the new frontier, “AeroDynamica” emerges as the embodiment of progress and freedom. This digital artwork captures a futuristic girl, her silhouette sleek against the cityscape, with wings that are a marvel of bioengineering. They unfurl with a grace that belies their intricate design, a fusion of organic curves and cutting-edge technology. “AeroDynamica” is not just a figure; she’s a statement about the potential within us all to
[art by Zdzisław Beksiński] In the ethereal stillness of the celestial realm, Metatron, the chief of winged angels, descended. His radiant wings shimmered like starlight, casting a celestial glow across the heavens. Suddenly, a tremor rippled through creation. God struck the three hundred and ninety heavens, and they quaked in reverent awe. From His eyes, tears flowed—hot as molten fire—cascading down like fiery rain into the vast ocean below. The waters stirred, roiling with sorrow as waves ign
[art by Zdzisław Beksiński] In the ethereal stillness of the celestial realm, Metatron, the chief of winged angels, descended. His radiant wings shimmered like starlight, casting a celestial glow across the heavens. Suddenly, a tremor rippled through creation. God struck the three hundred and ninety heavens, and they quaked in reverent awe. From His eyes, tears flowed—hot as molten fire—cascading down like fiery rain into the vast ocean below. The waters stirred, roiling with sorrow as waves ign
[art by Norman Rockwell] With newfound determination burning in his eyes, Roupinho stepped back, his gaze lingering on the statue of the Black Madonna. Leaving the grotto, Roupinho emerged into the world, his heart aflame with the divine spark that had been ignited within him. And so, the knight set forth on his sacred quest, his destiny intertwined with the miraculous presence of the Black Madonna of Nazaré. The echoes of his pledge reverberated through the hallowed halls of his soul, ignitin
[art by Greg Smallwood] Maria Magdalena, her eyes filled with longing, her body moving gracefully to the rhythm of the music. Jesus watches her from a distance, captivated by her beauty and spirit. Maria's hands reaching out to touch Jesus, igniting a spark of passion between them.
[art by Slipknot] In the ethereal stillness of the celestial realm, Metatron, the chief of winged angels, descended. His radiant wings shimmered like starlight, casting a celestial glow across the heavens. Suddenly, a tremor rippled through creation. God struck the three hundred and ninety heavens, and they quaked in reverent awe. From His eyes, tears flowed—hot as molten fire—cascading down like fiery rain into the vast ocean below. The waters stirred, roiling with sorrow as waves ignited in a
In the ethereal stillness of the celestial realm, Metatron, the chief of winged angels, descended with radiant wings that shimmered like starlight. He approached the divine throne where God, cloaked in magnificent glory. a tremor rippled through creation as God struck the three hundred and ninety heavens, causing them to shudder in awe. Tears, hot as molten fire, flowed from His eyes, cascading into the vast ocean below, stirring its depths and igniting waves of sorrow.In that moment, the cosmos
If mighty angels fair and tall, Each robed as priestly seneschal, On altar-suns burn incense daily, As wheel the systems to Love's sweet call, Earth's sun is sure an altar-rose, Abloom from dawn to day's bright close. The mighty angel stoops above it With pulsing wings, as it golden glows, To fan the incense-waves through space. When buds the light or folds its grace, He lifts erect his glorious stature, Kindling the sky from his ruddy face.
[art by Bekka Bjorke] Jacob wrestling with angel
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