Beneath the veil of weakened might, A fungal shadow takes its flight. From bird-song nests to mortal skin, A silent war begins within.
Primary strikes, through cuts unseen, A nodule rises, red and keen. The ulcers bloom, the plaques unfold, A tale of trauma harshly told.
Yet deeper lurks the fungal guise, Through blood it spreads, unseen by eyes. From lungs to skin, the spores ignite, A scattered map of lesions' blight.
Umbilicated marks appear, A haunting touch of spreading fear. For those who battle weakened streams, This foe invades their guarded dreams.
Microscopic worlds reveal, Encapsulated yeasts congeal. India ink their forms outlines, In labs where science draws its signs.
Culture grows in petri's hold, Histology in stains foretold. The antigen, a beacon’s glow, Points to where the fungus grows.
Treatment begins, a toxic brew, Fluconazole, the first they rue. If deeper roots the foe does show, Amphotericin’s tides must flow.
A battle waged in body’s keep, As weakened hosts their vigil keep. For those who tread this fragile path, Hope fights alongside healing’s wrath.
So guard your walls, both strong and frail, Against the spores that clouds assail. For Cryptococcus writes its name, In whispers soft, yet fierce with claim.
