Placeholder: Wash away my troubles Wash away my pain Tell me how does your light shine 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 Wash away my troubles Wash away my pain Tell me how does your light shine 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

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@generalpha

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Wash away my troubles Wash away my pain Tell me how does your light shine 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

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1 year ago

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SDXL

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But as Megan continued her journey, she realized that the power of the talisman was not without its challenges. The intoxicating allure of the sect's practices began to consume her, blurring the line between her newfound liberation and the responsibilities of everyday life. She found herself torn between her desire for exploration and the need to maintain a sense of balance in the outside world. As the experiences multiplied, Megan grappled with the question of where her true path lay. Was she m
As Megan moved forward on her path within the sect, the memory of the gentle punishment remained with her, a reminder of the power of respectful pleasure and the limitless possibilities that awaited her. With each step, she carried the wisdom of the talisman, the guidance of the Grand Priestess, and an unwavering commitment to her own erotic liberation.
[laughing sexy faerie with a deer] As psychedelic 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.
[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
Wash away my troubles Wash away my pain With the rain in Shambala Wash away my sorrow Wash away my shame With the rain in Shambala
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,
Picture a mandala, intricately designed with delicate petals and flourishing foliage. At its center, a radiant sun bursts forth, casting its warm golden rays across the canvas. The sun, representing the rejuvenation of life, is adorned with intricate patterns resembling blossoming flowers, symbolizing the awakening of nature. Radiating from the sun, the mandala expands with an array of vivid hues. Imagine petals in shades of soft pastel pinks, gentle lavender, and cheerful yellow, each one metic
Kali was a force to be reckoned witha woman whose spirit burned with an unyielding determination and an insatiable thirst for adventure. With fiery hair cascading in loose waves down her shouldersKali possessed an allure that drew people in, leaving them captivated by her vibrant presence. Kali's eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint, hinting at the secrets she held within.
Dahlia shakes her head, unfazed, and states— "Your hubris I cannot allow to spread. Though demons vie for power, I guard the just." "If innocent souls suffer under your reign, I will stop you, as I have done before. Mortal faith I'm sworn to keep from demons' grasp."
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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
Dahlia shakes her head, unfazed, and states— "Your hubris I cannot allow to spread. Though demons vie for power, I guard the just." A look then passes, knowing, between two— One seeks chaos, the other harmony. An eternal clash of light and dark ensues.
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