In veins and capillaries, where life's river flows, A bluish hue, a telltale sign of woes, Cyanosis whispers of oxygen's plight, Where skin and lips turn blue in the night.
A shadowed pallor on skin's fragile veil, A silent plea for breath, a hidden tale, In hearts that falter, in lungs that strain, Cyanosis paints a portrait of pain.
From icy chill to diseases deep within, It marks the struggle where life's threads thin, A call to heal, to mend, to restore, Cyanosis speaks, it cannot be ignored.
In the quiet depths where blood's journey wends, A poet's words on where life suspends, Cyanosis, a whispered plea, profound, For hands to grasp, and hope to be found.
