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 Cast aside, he plummets to the desolate earth. Hymns of his treacherous heart consume his ears. Tears aren’t shed, pleads aren’t wailed He’s left atop the desecrated hollow ground. Azrael, the Angel of Death, come snuff out his remaining life. Azrael, take up your bloodied scythe, carve off his wings, and leave clotting crescent scars on his back. He needs his wings no more. Kiss a crimson smile upon his neck, he’ll not sing anymore. Left broken, flies descend upon him. The flies sing a song of lies. Devouring the words, he wished he had heard at the time of his descent. Chewing away at who he was Ushering in who he will become. Neither an angel, Nor a man. But something else. The flies swarm the pit. His body lies at the center of the crater. A crimson smile graces his neck. Murky eyes yearn heavenward. Maggots nested within his flesh, eating away at his unbeating heart. Crawling through his veins Multiplying, devouring, transforming The quaking rot of his new body Bleeds veiny wings that beat against the blackened earth. His baptism is a vile mass of maggots, blood, songs, and flies. His new body Ugly, but defined. Flies dance upon his unblinking eyes, He can’t cry. His tears have since dried. The fall desiccated his eyes, stealing his cries. Ears echoing with fading hymns, He is dead but persists in consciousness. Maggots worm out from his red smile, forcing him to gurgle, “I am the Lord of Flies” The flies buzz in victory, Using their teeth the maggots squirm out of his orifices hatching from his flesh. They raise their bodies heavenwards, In praise of their new lord.
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