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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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My life is a nightmare that fate embellishes with scenes of horror. I was born in the bowels of misery, my heart crushed by rage and terror. I know the stench of battlefields, the taste of a child soldier’s tears, I’ve seen all the demonic faces that the angel of death can wear. My impure soul is a cemetery of eloquent pains, In my mind tormented by human savagery, only indelible stains. I have seen lonely mothers bury their fears beneath shrouds of silence, Traumatized fathers fading upright, eyes nailed to absence. I’ve walked straight upon the ruins of my own desolation, Beneath a sky where scarred stars bleed without cessation. My past haunts me, a pale specter with slitted eyes, It whispers blasphemies backward, in thunderous cries. My skin is armor, forged from mute scars, My wounds are oaths that love shattered into shards. I am a child of darkness, orphaned of light, A stray tightrope walker, on a thread of dust in flight. Yet in the furnaces of hell, however faint, a divine spark persists, A fragment of rebellious life that sorrow cannot extinguish. I take risks to erase this ocean of suffering, I sail against the current on a sea of untrusting. My dreams are leaking rafts tossed by indifference, Yet I still row, guided by the instinct of resistance. My nights are filled with screams no ear can catch, Forgotten faces that my memory cannot detach. I live among shadows, I speak to the gone, I console my ghosts who weep within my blood alone. My days are duels between the fall and the rise, A silent pact between the abyss and a last try. My color wears the mourning of futures cut down, Yet in the blaze of my tears, something walks on unbound. I am the gravel voice of a world betrayed, The witness of a century in ruins, by forgetfulness decayed. I no longer beg for peace — I forge it from my torment, I carve my convictions in stone to defy my lament. For even the damned can script their liberation, Transform their pain into a proud declaration. And if I must fall, let it be standing, unrepentant to the core, With my traumas as epitaph, and my courage as accord.

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A SPARK ESCAPED FROM HELL

My life is a nightmare that fate embellishes with scenes of horror. I was born in the bowels of misery, my heart crushed by rage and terror. I know the stench of battlefields, the taste of a child soldier’s tears, I’ve seen all the demonic faces that the angel of death can wear. My impure soul is a cemetery of eloquent pains, In my mind tormented by human savagery, only indelible stains. I have seen lonely mothers bury their fears beneath shrouds of silence, Traumatized fathers fading upright, eyes nailed to absence. I’ve walked straight upon the ruins of my own desolation, Beneath a sky where scarred stars bleed without cessation. My past haunts me, a pale specter with slitted eyes, It whispers blasphemies backward, in thunderous cries. My skin is armor, forged from mute scars, My wounds are oaths that love shattered into shards. I am a child of darkness, orphaned of light, A stray tightrope walker, on a thread of dust in flight. Yet in the furnaces of hell, however faint, a divine spark persists, A fragment of rebellious life that sorrow cannot extinguish. I take risks to erase this ocean of suffering, I sail against the current on a sea of untrusting. My dreams are leaking rafts tossed by indifference, Yet I still row, guided by the instinct of resistance. My nights are filled with screams no ear can catch, Forgotten faces that my memory cannot detach. I live among shadows, I speak to the gone, I console my ghosts who weep within my blood alone. My days are duels between the fall and the rise, A silent pact between the abyss and a last try. My color wears the mourning of futures cut down, Yet in the blaze of my tears, something walks on unbound. I am the gravel voice of a world betrayed, The witness of a century in ruins, by forgetfulness decayed. I no longer beg for peace — I forge it from my torment, I carve my convictions in stone to defy my lament. For even the damned can script their liberation, Transform their pain into a proud declaration. And if I must fall, let it be standing, unrepentant to the core, With my traumas as epitaph, and my courage as accord.