Free online greeting card maker or poetry art generator. Create free custom printable greeting cards or art from photos and text online. Use PoetrySoup's free online software to make greeting cards from poems, quotes, or your own words. Generate memes, cards, or poetry art for any occasion; weddings, anniversaries, holidays, etc (See examples here). Make a card to show your loved one how special they are to you. Once you make a card, you can email it, download it, or share it with others on your favorite social network site like Facebook. Also, you can create shareable and downloadable cards from poetry on PoetrySoup. Use our poetry search engine to find the perfect poem, and then click the camera icon to create the card or art.
Enter Title (Not Required)
Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Silence. My bow drawn back. A deadly silence laid over the kingdom. Not a sound has been made, quiet as death. i hear foot falls in the distance, coming closer. I press harder into the brush, awaiting the intruders. Three lords and the King steps into the clearing. My bow relaxes. The nobles are mourning the fallen knights, what . . . laughter. Cruel, mocking laughter. The lords pull out bags of gold and laid them at the kings feet. The kings servant, deaf and mute, carried the gold to the Kings castle. His majesty pulled out a small bag and thrust it into the shadows. A mercenary strode into the open, clutching the bag, My anger boiled, he was using the money earned by knights to hire a mercenary! More laughter, they dare mock the heroic deeds of the knights! Why would the knights give themselves to such a pitiless, greedy King? What of the families of those dead knights, they must need that money!? The Lords and Mercenary hurled insults at the spirits of the noble knights. The King laughed. Fury erupted within me, I let loose my arrow. twang-fssst twang, twang-fssst, fssst The lords lay dead at the greedy Kings feet. Wide eyed, the King stepped behind the nameless Mercenary. twang-fssst Only the King remained. twang-fssst The King fell to his knees and died. I retrieved and cleaned my arrows, then placed them in my quiver. I thought of curses matching the Kings character. They where all to kind. None would make his black soul repent in his actions in death. Some sweetly sour words sprang to my lips as I approached the coming dawn. "Long Live the King"
Enter Author Name (Not Required)