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Lost in Silence
Created 3 months ago · 73 comments· 0 likes
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She wore the storm upon her skin—streaks of gold across shadow, as though the sun itself had wept over her face. Each feather in her headdress carried the memory of battles fought and victories whispered only to the earth. Her eyes remained closed, not in weakness, but in a strength born of listening. Around her, the world roared with chaos, but within her chest was a silence deeper than the night sky, a silence that spoke louder than war cries.
This was the silence of loss, of stories untold, of names carried only by the wind. Yet it was also the silence of waiting—like the stillness before thunder cracks, before the horizon bleeds with dawn. She was the keeper of that silence, the vessel of an unbroken lineage. Though her voice did not rise, her presence was a song, echoing in the marrow of all who beheld her.
Prose by Red-Warrior @4mustangs
2 / 230
community-challenge cc-portrait
73 Comments
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How beautiful, striking portrait! Congratulations! 🖤💛🥳🥳
Stunning artwork Shy!!!! Congratulations!!!!
Impressive artwork, Shywolf! Beautiful texture! Congratulations! 🤍🤍🤍
Creation Settings
This creation was not made on NightCafe.
- Model
Dall-e 3 via Bing
- Prompts
- Somber Sioux girl in bold thick paint ridged smears by Luis Royo :: Anne Stokes :: HR Giger :: Andrea Lie :: vibrant dark colors gold and black
- Workflow
Not provided
I missed this one. My spirit is moved enough to share a few words. She wore the storm upon her skin—streaks of gold across shadow, as though the sun itself had wept over her face. Each feather in her headdress carried the memory of battles fought and victories whispered only to the earth. Her eyes remained closed, not in weakness, but in a strength born of listening. Around her, the world roared with chaos, but within her chest was a silence deeper than the night sky, a silence that spoke louder than war cries.
This was the silence of loss, of stories untold, of names carried only by the wind. Yet it was also the silence of waiting—like the stillness before thunder cracks, before the horizon bleeds with dawn. She was the keeper of that silence, the vessel of an unbroken lineage. Though her voice did not rise, her presence was a song, echoing in the marrow of all who beheld her.