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 Written: January 20, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker Quote: “There is no sickness worse for me than words that to be kind must lie.” Aeschylus, Line of inquiry: truth imbibed awaits assimilation we feel it in our bones in time dissolved meditation ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It lies so wisely in silence—a truth as vast as the sky, Heart bonds are loud, and time is where secrets fly. Another guidance from the soul is to meditate, The benthic abyss of existence—may not captivate. In the timeless Prometheus, ketamine never ends, Words assail when sacrilegious with a weight of trends. Wrapped by laceration, shadows murmur the truth, We weave hedonistic worlds, crafted with airy youth. No signs or manuals molded on musty scrolls, But a heartbeat harmonious hum—echoing halls. It mutters in muted times louder than any voice, A celestial cadence that connects us in cool poise. Meditation serves as a serenata for truth gems, Sorting through shadows—to watch which hems. In silence, we design stories woven from threads, Into our depths, where gossamer rule treads. In the mirror of prayer, truth makes its colors clear, Every stroke is an enlightenment that destroys fear. It's deemed with every heart, gavotte, and breath, Until skills emerge from life's mellifluous wreath. We do not grasp truth, but we acquire it with grace, A rhapsody careens that falls into place. It is a layer of us, shaped by the hand of time, An idiosyncratic memorial in this changing grime.
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