Within the chambers of the heart it hides,
A silent pathway where chaos resides.
Wolff-Parkinson-White, its name we know,
An extra route where impulses flow.
The atria beat in a normal flight,
But an accessory path ignites the night.
Bypassing nodes where signals should slow,
It quickens the pulse in its rapid show.
A heartbeat fast, like a storm in flight,
Palpitations rise, a moment of fright.
Dizzying spells, a breath in haste,
The rhythm of life seems out of place.
On the ECG, a secret it leaves,
A delta wave, a clue it weaves.
A short PR interval, telltale sign,
The heart’s electric map to define.
Supraventricular tachycardia reigns,
A sudden rush, no time to explain.
Yet deeper fears may come to play,
As fibrillation may find its way.
Though present at birth, it waits in time,
A congenital beat, a subtle climb.
Diagnosis clear through studies and screens,
A rhythm unraveled by medical means.
But fear not, for treatment’s in sight,
With catheter ablation, the path turns right.
Medications too, can slow the race,
Returning the heart to a steady pace.
In emergencies, a jolt may restore,
The rhythm that life so deeply implores.
WPW, a challenge to bear,
Yet managed with care, the heart can repair.
