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Greeting Card Maker | Poem Art Generator

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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In the cathedral of night, a new phantasm rises from the incense smoke of burnt rules, Altars of therapy crumble under the weight of our unspoken prayers, Our steps, like lost pilgrims, are swallowed by streets paved with tears of stars, Where locusts of prophecy weave their sonorous mantle in the temple of our weary ears. Silence suffocates us, binds us with chains of light, and steals our flight towards the empyrean, But we are called to plunge into the primordial sea of divine chaos, To dance with shadows of fear in the sanctuary of the unknown without reserve, For only thus can we hear the echo of our soul in the cosmic cathedral of existence. Reality unravels like an ancient scroll, leaving behind enigmatic hieroglyphs, And we are the mad alchemists who transmute these symbols into spiritual gold, With each verse we break the seals of isolation and pour into the streets like a river of light, Our incantations intertwine with the whispers of eternity in a choir of mystic rebirth. In this realm of smoke and magic mirrors, we are summoned to be more than spectators, To hurl ourselves into the fray of life like fallen angels with burnt wings and illuminated minds, For only thus can we weave the tapestries of a future yet unborn, Where our wildest fantasies become cosmic mandalas, and rules are but fleeting shadows.

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In the cathedral of night, a new phantasm rises from the incense smoke of burnt rules

In the cathedral of night, a new phantasm rises from the incense smoke of burnt rules, Altars of therapy crumble under the weight of our unspoken prayers, Our steps, like lost pilgrims, are swallowed by streets paved with tears of stars, Where locusts of prophecy weave their sonorous mantle in the temple of our weary ears. Silence suffocates us, binds us with chains of light, and steals our flight towards the empyrean, But we are called to plunge into the primordial sea of divine chaos, To dance with shadows of fear in the sanctuary of the unknown without reserve, For only thus can we hear the echo of our soul in the cosmic cathedral of existence. Reality unravels like an ancient scroll, leaving behind enigmatic hieroglyphs, And we are the mad alchemists who transmute these symbols into spiritual gold, With each verse we break the seals of isolation and pour into the streets like a river of light, Our incantations intertwine with the whispers of eternity in a choir of mystic rebirth. In this realm of smoke and magic mirrors, we are summoned to be more than spectators, To hurl ourselves into the fray of life like fallen angels with burnt wings and illuminated minds, For only thus can we weave the tapestries of a future yet unborn, Where our wildest fantasies become cosmic mandalas, and rules are but fleeting shadows.