Comic / Storyboard - Intricate Poetic Dragon Fantasy Text prompt

An intricate artistic abstract poem describing a timeless dragon with cinematic spatial/temporal elements used for generation testing.

by Toshi·CC-BY-4.0 license·via YouMind (CC BY 4.0)·Source ↗

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50 lines · 1,923 characters · makes an image — paste it into an image model

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The prompt

50 lines · 1,923 characters

1	Where the Wing Remembers Both Shores
2
3	The dragon does not choose a century.
4	It is the century choosing itself
5	through a body made of postponement and afterglow.
6	One wing trails the last unburned page of a library
7	that fell before paper learned its own name.
8	The other combs holographic rain
9	from towers that have not yet decided
10	whether they will stand or become rumor.
11	Between them the air keeps two calendars
12	and forgets which one is running.
13	Its scales are older than the word for scale.
14	They remember the heat of forges
15	that have not been lit,
16	and the cold of stars
17	that have already gone out
18	in some other telling.
19	Runes surface and sink like thoughts
20	a city has not earned the right to think.
21	Each pulse of light is both relic and prototype.
22	Below, the streets are wet with what has happened
23	and what is still negotiating its arrival.
24	Neon writes on water that was once a glacier’s patience
25	and will be, later, only a rumor of thirst.
26	Foundations rest on the quiet of forests
27	that still dream they are standing.
28	Billboards advertise tomorrows
29	already homesick for the dusk that has not come.
30	The creature’s eyes hold the only honest weather:
31	one the green of a memory
32	that does not yet know it is finished,
33	the other the blue of a question
34	that has not found the mouth that will ask it.
35	They look at us the way time looks at itself
36	when no one is watching
37	without pity, without verdict,
38	only the long courtesy of attention.
39	We live in the brief downdraft of its passing,
40	that strange, merciful interval
41	where the past is still unfinished with us
42	and the future has already begun
43	to miss what we have not yet lost.
44	Nothing is promised except the turning: he slow, luminous hinge of a wing
45	that belongs to every hour at once
46	and to none of them completely.
47	The mist it leaves is neither ending nor beginning.
48	It is the place they briefly recognize each other
49	before the next uncertainty
50	opens its quiet, necessary hand.