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 Can blackwater lilies sing forth sonnets of daylight and unsung those cacophonous notes of omen, which rhymed with sombre elixir of spruce rivulets and veiled your crimson touch of life, in eons of unforgivable death? Those haunting floods of heinous moth-ringed August still carve my lungs with an eerie monsoon petrichor, when the sundial reversed its succulent sentimental rhymes and plagued meteors of pincushion silence shattered along the mangroves, fenced with sulfuric sunflower rays. I have traversed through bioluminescent bays of morose coasts, questing for nefarious nimbus where violent waves muted my inked inquests and pierced through translucent membranes of wrinkled realities. Planting caskets of kohl-carnations in cushioned opal flowerbeds and burying my mascara in granite gravestones where rhetoric ravenous legacies ruptured every cotyledon of love and light, I bleed upon glossy pearlescent feathers of each killed nightingale who sacrificed its versatile voice to save you from the abode's obsidian rage. Now these sherbet buds have no parental twigs, nor any throne of golden anchor, to protect them from envious nightglows and cold cadence of frost. Dear father, the lens of life is now foggy and opaque, and your symmetric skies are but a cluster of miniscule macabre phrases, laced with miming reapers. Hypothesis of existence has finally feasted upon my morose metaphors, as now no serendipitous sun can replace your warmth. Every permeable memory is a misspelled melody, hanging in these twilight cobwebs of ivory threads, yearning for the last leaf to finally fall. No mathematical expression can equate to your unfathomable absence neither any tangerine tangent can bridge the gap of dissected valleys between the hell and the heaven. Fate is yet, an undefined misery, for, I feel, this lethal luna would never prevent its jealousy from entwining in moontstruck haze of melancholy and it will forever melt in my essence as a traumatizing tremor. Papa, What dialect will I decipher to my daughter when time is no longer her amiable fluer and she's able to connect those malignant dots of destiny, when her eyes will linger through my soul, searching for an opalescent oasis, will she be lost forever in the silicon storms emerging in my heart's desert? ~ "Is life nothing but an eclipsed end of fervent beliefs, mocking the dead?"
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