In the quiet realm of a breathless fight,
Where air sacs gasp, in the dark of night,
Inflammation whispers its cruel song,
As pneumonia's grip, it grows strong.
A bacterial army, a viral foe,
Infiltrate the lungs where life must flow,
Symptoms arise, like a silent scream,
Coughs and chills in a fevered dream.
The chest constricts, in pain's cruel dance,
As fatigue and confusion lead the advance,
In this world of pneumonia's cruel reign,
Hope finds solace in the midst of the pain.
Community-acquired, in shadows it hides,
Hospital-acquired where fear abides,
Aspiration, atypical, they take their form,
Different triggers, different norms.
Diagnosis seeks the hidden truth,
Through X-rays and tests, in the quest for proof,
Bacterium, virus, or fungal foe,
Which pathogen has brought this woe?
Treatment emerges to wage the fight,
Antibiotics or antivirals in the light,
Supportive care, the healing grace,
Rest and hydration in this dark place.
Mild or severe, it varies so,
Life's fragile balance in the ebb and flow,
For the weak and young, the battle's stark,
Pneumonia's threat leaves a lasting mark.
In this realm where breath hangs on a thread,
Medical aid can raise the dead,
Vaccines protect, like a guardian's lance,
Against bacterial and viral dance.
So heed the tale of pneumonia's lore,
In the realm of lungs, we must explore,
With knowledge, care, and science's art,
We'll safeguard life, right from the start.
