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 “I let go. Lost in oblivion. Dark and silent and complete. I found freedom. Losing all hope was freedom.” Chuck Palahniuk Is there such a metaphor as an avalanche of time? Each second can be cold, but never freezes, but we all know a landslide once triggered, can bury fragile foundations into oblivion. Sometimes life is scripted into a pantomime of pretend. Darkness crawls at dawn. There's a sour stench in the air, ascending from an aromatherapy of agony and ache. She's crying again. Her demons smiling. This is no melodrama, as crimson discolours the whites of her eyes, with dripping mascara staining sore dark circles - as 3am fears are released through a flood of tears. Her spirit is a malady of misery, lusting for an end from this state of deadly delirium. In each tear there is a sign, an unveiled message lost in silent flows - as anxiety's asphyxiation grows. Time has become her nemesis. Turning her intellect into foolish bitterness. It's a dilemma creating false hopes, resulting in broken dreams and forgotten promises. Destiny keeps playing games with her spirit, whilst fate falters like premature butterflies. Only her heart knows the truth of her heart - She hides behind a veil of personal poison. In the molestation of her mind, she kisses the silence in between each echo, yet the sands of time bring her no respite. People keep throwing stones, bruising her every time, she has no desire to live as a victim of broken pieces from her past, but wounds keep resurfacing. Tired from drinking venomous embers of elixir, which pierce like shards of sorrow, penetrating an eternal hole in her soul, she cries for healing and understanding. But In a world full of dark skies and rain, her sanity slowly fades, like a paper bag of emotions, floating in a muddy puddle within a concrete pot hole. Intoxicated by kismet's chalice of impatience, she has learned fate has no mercy, it offers no remedy to soothe her sorrows, nor heal her horrors. her life is a metaphor known as an avalanche of time.
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