Genur.art

V. I was only a poor poet, made for singing at her casement, As the finches or the thrushes, while she thought of other things. Oh, she walked so high above me, she appeared to my abasement, In her lovely silken murmur, like an angel clad in wings! <lora:FluxMythV2:0.6> <lora:ck-painterly-fantasy:0.6> <lora:flux.1_lora_flyway_Epic-detail_v2:0.5> <lora:RetroAnimeFluxV1:0.7> <lora:FluxTrissMV1:0.8>