Prompt: An old man crosses the threshold
With long boots, with long beards
The shine of your necklace is golden
On the cold slab where it drained
Your shirt and your hunter's saddlebag
My old and invisible
Avôhai
My old and indivisible
Avôhai
Blurred and bright fog
In my brain, sun clots
morning amanita
And what a transparent curtain around me
If I say it's well known
You say it's even worse
But it's worse than the planet
When you lose the sunflower
It's the brilliant third
In my grandmother's fingers
And I was never afraid of the gate again
Not even the companion who never slept alone
Avôhai
Avôhai
Avôhai
The marsh crosses the dust actually exists
A lighter tone in the paleness of these people
Pairs of eyes so deep
That embitter the people they look at
But who drink your life, your soul
When you send
It's the eyes, it's the wings
Grandpahai hair
In tourmaline stone
And in the yard of the plant I grew up
I flew at dawn
And in the doomed crater I fell silent
And if I was silent it was out of sadness, you remain silent for the sake of being silent
But he remains silent, he only speaks when I tell him to
Searching for conscience with fear of traveling
Up to the middle of the comet's head
Spinning around in the improvisation game
Interrupting, I follow the straight line
I have the right word so the doctor doesn't complain
Avôhai
Avôhai
Avôhai
Avôhai<lora:wegg:1.0>
Negative prompt: demorph, strange