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.
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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Hackneyed breath of words and the clichés hit the wall, A stream of summoned nonsense bounces off of me like superstition, Benevolent limits of indulgence, on the other hand, - oh, well! The oeuvre of life, I live, leans towards the attraction, Sprinkled over with the droplets of avant-garde, and hedonism. But the intentions engender balance between born, and unborn, Between an eternal shadow of uncertainty, and a seeker Who is standing at the poetic juncture of scherzos and nocturnes, Unguided, eternally lost, in the timeless world of imagination, In the wonderful world of desires, dreams, and the best version of self. My prevalent muse resides in the realm of sins, Full of ardour, with a good measure of boundless torment, Experienced throughout the past and the present, In the midst of unrequited adolescence of love facing uncertainty As laurel leaves would face each other in a wreath For the glory, victory and power. But it’s not these that are sought after. It is love, she seeks, Until last dying breath. So, where does a painter start with painting? Perhaps in the realm where allusions are divided into sequences, Where olive branches evoke the logic, and reality is burned at the stake, Where melisma echoes throughout the Vox, as nothing more than a pastiche. Or who knows? I don’t. She doesn’t. We? Well, that’s another tale to be told.
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