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 It’s nearly two as the Reaper’s clock begins to strike. A thundering clap shakes the trembling ground, as death knolls beckon me into this thick, hazy night. Coming to a clearing, I see ceremonial tables carved with the darkest of symbols. Jewel-encrusted cups—flowing freely with blood and whiskey—are placed amongst bones, whilst monstrous funeral pyres loom over the uninvited. Shadows flicker off the glint of boiling streams; souls, trapped between conflicting realms, bewitched by dancing with death, can’t quite grasp that it all has to come to an end. A cacophony rises from the corpse choir, growing louder and louder until my ears burst, with blood pouring down my confused cheeks. But why am I here? I have no memory of crossing over; I have not forsaken life—I swear my heart still beats beneath my breast. Or does it? I take my shaky hand and place it upon my chest, whilst the dance with death amplifies around me. Dizziness takes over; I can’t focus. “Get a grip—breathe, feel for the heartbeat.” There is nothing—just silence beneath my fingers. Recollections come in and out of focus. He came to me, after all the times I cried for him, whispering sweet promises into my ear: “No more pain, no more fear, just white noise.” Plunge the knife in and take my hand, dance the eternal dance. Reality comes back into view; my hands, now covered in sticky hemoglobin, reach for a reaching palm as I sway endlessly in complete, everlasting oblivion.
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