Placeholder: [kupka] Fire! Bless my soul, that's the way it is Bless my soul, I can't resist Swift as a river With a hand as hard as stone What's hot as hell the same, won't leave you cold I'm a believer My world's just good as gold [kupka] Fire! Bless my soul, that's the way it is Bless my soul, I can't resist Swift as a river With a hand as hard as stone What's hot as hell the same, won't leave you cold I'm a believer My world's just good as gold

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@generalpha

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[kupka] Fire! Bless my soul, that's the way it is Bless my soul, I can't resist Swift as a river With a hand as hard as stone What's hot as hell the same, won't leave you cold I'm a believer My world's just good as gold

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2 years ago

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Luna Diffusion

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

608 × 912

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[kupka] Fire! Bless my soul, that's the way it is Bless my soul, I can't resist Swift as a river With a hand as hard as stone What's hot as hell the same, won't leave you cold I'm a believer My world's just good as gold
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 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
[kupka] We embody wisdom, the connection so strong, Between humanity and earth, in this ancient song. Oh, kulu natume, dance of gods so true, Celebrate the harvest, in rhythms we move,
[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
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[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
Once I rose above the noise and confusion Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion I was soaring ever higher But I flew too high Though my eyes could see, I still was a blind man Though my mind could think, I still was a mad man I hear the voices when I'm dreaming I can hear them say Carry on, my wayward son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more
[kupka] Fire! Bless my soul, that's the way it is Bless my soul, I can't resist Swift as a river With a hand as hard as stone What's hot as hell the same, won't leave you cold I'm a believer My world's just good as gold
[kupka] Fire! Bless my soul, that's the way it is Bless my soul, I can't resist Swift as a river With a hand as hard as stone What's hot as hell the same, won't leave you cold I'm a believer My world's just good as gold
[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.
Among the cyber-intellectuals, individuals of unparalleled brilliance and astuteness immersed themselves in the pursuit of knowledge. Their bodies, intricately interwoven with cybernetic enhancements, symbolized the fusion of human ingenuity and artificial augmentation. In this convergence of beings, a tapestry of voices emerged, exchanging ideas, strategies, and insights. The room buzzed with the hum of discourse, ideas and plans taking shape like delicate algorithms in the minds of the partic
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