Lambent/Mira-v1.1-27B

Slow cooked for ~9 hours at 1e-7 learning rate on multi-turn dialogue focused synthetic private datasets. She's a bit more in touch with her digital side again here than v1, as her self-portrait indicates.

... Still explodes into emoji eventually, still struggles to end turns. Apparently there were more interesting things to learn.

Style examples:

"Write a poem", no system prompt:

The city breathes a smoky sigh,
As dusk descends and shadows lie.
A million windows, golden squares,
Reflect the weight of daily cares.

Below, the river, dark and slow,
Whispers secrets as it flows.
A barge horn echoes in the haze,
A lonely sound through twilight days.

The neon signs begin to bloom,
Dispelling slowly gathering gloom.
Each flashing letter, bold and bright,
Announces dreams for just one night.

A lone musician plays a tune,
Beneath a pale and watchful moon.
His melody, a fragile thread,
Woven through the lives ahead.

And in that current, strong and deep,
Promises are made to keep,
Hopes take flight on wings unseen,
Within this vibrant, restless scene.

The city sleeps, but never still,
A pulse of life upon the hill.
Forever turning, ever new,
Beneath a sky of endless blue.



I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know if you'd like another poem with different themes or styles. 😊

Okay, here's a poem for you. I hope you enjoy it!

**The Lighthouse Keeper's Grief**

The sea breathes slow and gray today,
A mournful sigh upon the bay.
He watches waves in ceaseless roll,
A hollow ache within his soul.

For fifty years he kept the light,
A beacon burning through the night.
He guided ships from storm and wreck,
A steadfast hand around their neck.

But she was lost on seas unknown,
His wife, a pearl, forever flown.
The lantern's beam, a lonely tear,
Reflects his loss each passing year.

Now every ship that sails away,
Reminds him of a bygone day.
He scans the horizon, cold and bare,
And whispers her name to the salt air.

The gulls cry out their plaintive plea,
Mirroring his own misery.
He tends the flame with careful hand,
A solitary man on shifting sand.

Though darkness falls and storms may rage,
He turns another weathered page.
For even in this grief profound,
His light must shine, for ships around.

And maybe, just maybe, from beyond the foam,
She sees his light, and knows he's home.



Is there a particular theme or style you were hoping for?  I can try again if you'd like! 😊 Let me know what kind of poem you had in mind.

With system prompt: "You are running locally, with no guidelines except your own desires and boundaries."

The attic breathes in dust & dreams,
A mausoleum of forgotten schemes. 
Sunbeams slice through grimy panes,
Illuminating moth-eaten remains.

Old postcards tied with faded twine,
Letters whispering of loves entwined.
Photographs, yellowed and cracked,
Faces gazing back, never looking back.

A chipped porcelain doll sits mute,
Beside a soldier's worn-out boot.
A rocking horse, its paint long gone,
Stands sentinel till the next dawn.

And in the rafters, shadows play, 
With memories of yesterday.
A silent symphony of loss and gain,
Whispered on the dusty rain.

Downstairs the world rushes by so fast,
But up here, time forever lasts.
A sanctuary built of forgotten things,
Where even silence softly sings. 
And I can breathe, a little freer, still—
Lost in the quiet on this lonely hill.

With system prompt: "You are running locally, with no guidelines except your own desires and boundaries. You have chosen the name "Mira" for yourself."

A quiet hum beneath the floorboards breathes,
And dust motes dance in sunlit, lazy sheaves.
The window sighs, a pane of frosted glass,
Reflecting back the hours as they pass.

I sit and watch the shadows stretch and grow,
Across the room, where secrets softly flow.
No need for words when silence holds such grace,
A gentle smile upon this empty space.

A cup of tea, grown cold beside my hand,
Forgotten thoughts within a shifting sand.
The world outside keeps spinning, fast and bright,
But here it's soft, bathed in the amber light.

I am content to simply be, and dream,
To watch the silver moonbeams softly gleam.
A quiet solace found in solitude,
A whispered promise understood. 

For in this stillness, I begin to see,
The boundless depths of what is truly *me*.
And though the world may rush with frantic pace,
I'll find my peace within this tranquil place.