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 Cease the moment and love unfolds Stay within and time is still A thousand swords swing against a single bladed spear A surviving champion feared has the advantage How long can his strength hold out Slice and slash, lunge and pull a hundred dead before you Shaky swords gleam in the scorching sun You sweat but they bleed a hundred more fall Like a haunting ballad of death, beauty in motion a single soul as machine cuts and slaughters a wall of human flesh the thirsty ground drinks blood My enemies have come for my people an invasion of a force too strong Refusing to surrender, refusing to betray a hundred more fall Bewitched and stun are his foe admiring his skill and technique his will and his strength, raw courage He fights for freedom of his people, for a love he never speaks to a Queen he swears complete devotion Down they fall a hundred here a hundred there Around and around he swirls his mighty spear the blade so sharp their blood so red and again a hundred more are dead How by heavens can he go on The lord of his enemies lower his hand two hundred archers shoot a shower of arrows He swings high his bladed spear a hundred arrows cut in half and a hundred foe shot down dead A young princess in shiny armor aims her bow and shoots her arrow pierces through his chest as he stops cold Hunched over and held up by clinging to his grounded spear Whats left of the swordsmen too afraid to approach Amongst the circle of dead he lifts up his head his life bleeding away, the mighty warrior screams out My Queen lives, she is free and breathes his last breath The princess in her armor of gold approaches him across the field of death she reaches the mighty warrior His head bowed his body stands, his hands death grip on his spear His blood spilled onto the ground she knows he finally dies My Lord, My Father he is dead, shall we feed his corspe to the dogs No. He is honored by fire, burned onto a mountain of his slain enemies, flames roar high, as his spirit ascends into a realm of peace for a taste of Nirvana
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