A clot begins in quiet depths,
In veins where shadows softly step,
A seed of trouble, small and still,
But fate is weaving at its will.
It breaks away, a restless tide,
Through veins and arteries it rides,
Till lungs it finds, and there it stays,
A silent storm, a blocking maze.
The breath grows short, the chest is tight,
As blood and air begin their fight,
The heart now races, pounding fast,
A struggle that may not long last.
From legs it came, deep veins concealed,
A hidden danger now revealed,
Be it fat or air, or life’s great cost,
A journey made at peril’s lost.
But symptoms speak, if we will hear—
A cough with blood, a whispered fear,
The light grows dim, the body sways,
Without a word, the world delays.
Yet science stands with tools in hand,
A scan, a test, a healing plan.
With thinners flowing through the veins,
And clots dissolving, hope remains.
For though it strikes with sudden might,
There’s strength in knowledge, in the fight.
The blood may flow, the breath renew,
If caught in time, life starts anew.
But heed the signs, the risks, the cause,
For health is fragile, bound by laws.
A clot, unseen, can change the tide—
Be watchful, and the storm subside.
