Affirmations

Poems rush to mind in a barrage,
then fade away like a mirage.
Words light as petals fall like rain
into a beautiful terrain

that forms a sort of sanctuary
where as I age I choose to tarry,
pretending that I’m going to miss
encounter with that grim abyss.

Another verse escapes my breath,
as with flushed face, I confront death.
Such affirmations reveal as sham
all that threatens what I am.

For The Sunday Whirl Wordle 700, the prompt words are: grim abyss flush raised mirage sham whispers light petals breath beauty