Placeholder: Together, they sang a new song of freedom, their voices intertwining like delicate petals of a blooming flower. The lyrics carried the weight of a thousand silenced voices, an anthem of resistance that echoed across the city, reaching the hearts of those still oppressed and yearning for liberation. Together, they sang a new song of freedom, their voices intertwining like delicate petals of a blooming flower. The lyrics carried the weight of a thousand silenced voices, an anthem of resistance that echoed across the city, reaching the hearts of those still oppressed and yearning for liberation.

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@generalpha

Prompt

Together, they sang a new song of freedom, their voices intertwining like delicate petals of a blooming flower. The lyrics carried the weight of a thousand silenced voices, an anthem of resistance that echoed across the city, reaching the hearts of those still oppressed and yearning for liberation.

1 year ago

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Model

22h Diffusion

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

512 × 768

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Together, they sang a new song of freedom, their voices intertwining like delicate petals of a blooming flower. The lyrics carried the weight of a thousand silenced voices, an anthem of resistance that echoed across the city, reaching the hearts of those still oppressed and yearning for liberation.
Our dreams don’t belong to them
[kupka] Wash away my troubles Wash away my pain With the rain in Shambala Wash away my sorrow I can tell my sister by the flowers in her eyes On the road to Shambala I can tell my brother by the flowers in his eyes On the road to Shambala
[kupka] Wash away my troubles Wash away my pain With the rain in Shambala Wash away my sorrow I can tell my sister by the flowers in her eyes On the road to Shambala I can tell my brother by the flowers in his eyes On the road to Shambala
Together, they sang a new song of freedom, their voices intertwining like delicate petals of a blooming flower. The lyrics carried the weight of a thousand silenced voices, an anthem of resistance that echoed across the city, reaching the hearts of those still oppressed and yearning for liberation.
[laughing sexy faerie with a deer] As Fiona, I feel myself drifting soft through billowing blooms of visual aid and aural ether. My slender form shimmers in gossamer raiment woven from sunshine, moonglow, and forest spirit; petal-soft hooves leave nary a print upon the stars I seem to walk. Beside me strides my Deery in dignity, his noble visage crowned with antlered emerald and bronze. Around us the glade pulses with bioluminescent being; the night is alive with pulse and song. We wander throug
You say my time here has been some sort of joke That I've been messing around Some sort of incubating period For when I really come around but I'm cracking up And you have no idea No idea how it feels to be on your own In your own home with the fucking phone And the mother of gloom
[kupka] Wash away my troubles Wash away my pain With the rain in Shambala Wash away my sorrow I can tell my sister by the flowers in her eyes On the road to Shambala I can tell my brother by the flowers in his eyes On the road to Shambala
[laughing sexy faerie with a deer] As Fiona, I feel myself drifting soft through billowing blooms of visual aid and aural ether. My slender form shimmers in gossamer raiment woven from sunshine, moonglow, and forest spirit; petal-soft hooves leave nary a print upon the stars I seem to walk. Beside me strides my Deery in dignity, his noble visage crowned with antlered emerald and bronze. Around us the glade pulses with bioluminescent being; the night is alive with pulse and song. We wander throug
[kupka] Wash away my troubles Wash away my pain With the rain in Shambala Wash away my sorrow I can tell my sister by the flowers in her eyes On the road to Shambala I can tell my brother by the flowers in his eyes On the road to Shambala
[kupka] Wash away my troubles Wash away my pain With the rain in Shambala Wash away my sorrow I can tell my sister by the flowers in her eyes On the road to Shambala I can tell my brother by the flowers in his eyes On the road to Shambala
[art by Alphonse Mucha] Pinup Art-deco Recruiting Propaganda
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