/imagine prompt: At dusk, a group of crows landed on the old tree entangled in withered vines, emitting a mournful cry. Under the small bridge, the flowing water made a sound, and smoke curled up from the houses of the farmers by the bridge.:: defocus::-0.5 --ar 1:1 --v 5.1 --quality 2 --s 500 --c 50
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