Woe betides her, curse of serpents crown and gaze of stone, naga of ruinous magnetism, to flood the iris in a torrent beyond the ken of bearable horror
To know such cycles of solitude only the windswept falcon can bear, in sweep of colossal skies, in voice of the high basin, where gods palms collide in claps of thunder
But here, bereft of pinioned wing, fingers trace the former flesh, mute of song, deaf as carven marble
Art style of Tom bagshaw, European ink style, mixed media, scratchboard ink style, neon blacklight and deep contrasts, a gorgeous sad Medusa stands in a ruined hall of broken mirrors and crumbling statues of horrified people
Weight: 1
ugly, tiling, poorly drawn hands, poorly drawn feet, poorly drawn face, out of frame, extra limbs, disfigured, deformed, body out of frame, blurry, bad anatomy, blurred, watermark, grainy, signature, cut off, draft