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.
Enter Title (Not Required)
Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required O, September, I feel the subtle scents of dandelion days melting into oblivion, Like spring waterfalls of delirious diamonds collapsing into the abyss of memory, While sentimental sapphire memories flow among clouds of color-blind cruelty, Revealing how the butterflies from the temple of fragmented armor have left my spirit At the altar of Ares, adorned with broken wings and shattered dreams. In this night, when the sky mirrors the winding streams with remnants From my beloved's violet garden, where wisteria withered in winds of despair, I recall how our love faded under the lilac-soaked lace of the lavender moon, As the stars hid their sparkling essence, burning hope in redundant rhymes, Painting my silhouette in trembling shades of ash and dust, Reverberating with the rose-soaked ruins of a broken love story. I am a breathing cadaver, floating in clandestine chaos, dreaming in distorted dialogues, Oscillating on the edge of cynical compositions, lost in toxic flames of translated traumas. My intuition never errs, but anxiety is a seasoned liar, Constantly leading me into a shining loop of deceitful mantras. There, I sing celestial serenades to the enigmatic rhythm of the violin, orchestrated in divine harmony, While my heart yearns for the rebirth of an eternal dawn, Created in classical cadence, to soothe the satanic scrutinies crawling through these veins, In ominous accents and desolate whispers. Yet I wonder, as air and mist entwine like delicate tendrils Dancing under the tulip twilight, will the cosmos unveil a lyrical meadow of perennial promises, Steeped in incense elixirs and unfulfilled dreams? Can the jewels of midnight release the paranoid puppeteers Manipulating the chaos of my tangled and lost consciousness? Or am I doomed to sing forever, condemned to a life of mundane mania? For I need a melody to synchronize the vindictive voices that obscure my vision, In a symphony of suffering and splendor alike. O, dahlia rain of an insomniac monsoon, just to forget your soulless symphony, I am now soaked in silence and tears, needing a muse To paint this pain in pacifying prose and healing verses. I see no beauty in my breaking; I cannot feel the danger, The warmth of rainbows wrapped in clover of clemency and compassion... Perhaps I am blind, and my empathy long dead, But why do I still yearn to feel the lunar grace in lonely, cold nights? Happiness is a mythical synonym for betrayal, tattooed on my golden skin; A mockery of honeysuckle love, while the water lilies in my lake of longing weep ceaselessly. So I end these in magical metaphors, written in syllables of shattered serenity, Wishing you could rewrite healing in the mist of transient, ephemeral nirvana. As you read these words, remember, I am not a poet, but a mourner, Bleeding odes to the lucidity I once knew in all its splendor. I am now a measureless cliché, crying for peace among bruised ballads, Woven into the blank pages of tomorrow, in a tapestry of sadness and hope.
Enter Author Name (Not Required)