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 The cold is draws forth, closing in on the hearts discontent as if a dog on the hunt. The pain and withering numbness that dances into view, is simply like that of a ghostly faery, promising stories, love, friendship, only to be grasped and fade away from thought. A scream can be heard, and nothing more, the dancing world is silent, scarily so, and the place rings with the sharp sound of a song. Fingers trailing in a world where they have no place to be, make one wish to stand and dance, to scream out, to tear hair from their very heads, to let their throats bleed in their pain, in their joy, in their agony. Try and find a helping hand in such a world, where every person has long gone, fallen in their own despair and their own madness where nothing can be found but empty smiles, loud laughter, ravishing the air like that of a lover to another. Try to escape, try to run form the laughter, from the silence, from the very world of hysterics, of grins, of a dancing masquerade. Colors of bright have gone dull, no longer able to stand such horrible atrocities. Let your mouth fall open, let your tongue try and make words, make pleas, cries, sounds of any kind, and watch as nothing falls out, let the sound of silence ring powerful in your ears, may you scream and scream, but never be heard. May your throat bleed, may your tears go dry upon your cheeks, may the very air in your lungs go far off and let it dance off as if it was never there. And then. You wake to find nothing but your room, your personal space. The sheets are in disarray, the room is too hot and too cold all at once, and then, you raise a hand to your throat, feel only the wetness of sweat, and breathe a sigh of relief, only to fall back into the monster that is your mind, gone and far, locked away in its dancing madness.
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