Life of a Wound

I

Parting of skin : The first sign
Of a wound; Malignant, benign.
The gushing of blood outside
Its desperate, freed to unreside.

Curious about the outer world
Doesn't realize its world is the body
The veins : the rails of its travel
The heart, lungs, organs stations.

But still out it rushes
For it knows not
That in the outer world
Alas! It will clot.

II

Still fresh is the wound
Tiny droplets of serum around
Ooze out; After cleansing
Again, it never seems finishing.

Causes some itching in the vicinity
The fingers respond to the stimuli
Along with nails unkempt; They scratch
And lo! Germs and infection it does catch.

III

Resisting the invaders are leucocytes
Righteously with them they fight
Such is the caliber of single cells
Pus is formed and invaders face hell.

The battlefield now being cleared
They dead being cremated and feared
That they may return
So its now the surgeon's turn.

IV

In the last days of its span
The wound is now a respectable man
Elegantly dressed all in white it is
Changes daily after bathing with spirits.

Drying up it is day by day
Heading towards the end of its stay
In this world, where it was unwelcome
Well, the time was tough but had to come.