L anguish deep in my heart, but my soul finds joy
O h, for silent prayer and pleasant thoughts at
N ight fly and charm their way to where
E vening candles illuminate through the mist of time.
|Friday Flash Fiction||
This is the section where fiction prose becomes something else. We still expect the poems to be short, though – sonnets, perhaps, or around that length at the very most. 100 words remains the approximate target.