For this week’s “Wordle” prompt I decided to cheat a bit and not even attempt to use all those offered words. Instead, picking just one word that spoke to me, (Chelation) and using it as a jumping off point. I wrote this piece first, then thought, “Why not take this same idea and write it as a sonnet?” The sonnet version is directly under this first bit.
In violent spasms the poison enters,
consuming completely each innocent cell,
settling deeply, darkly within the heart.
First euphoria trickling slowly, methodically
down familiar pathways, ending in
gut-wrenching pain, praying for death.
The only cure - complete chelation.
Searching out and destroying
each minute pathogen,
Cleansing the marrow, the soul, to return
life’s blood to a pure, whole self.
But the healing never lasts,
this illness too addictive, a drug
that feels so good, but dooms so quickly.
There is always
one more germ, one more virus,
To ruin the health and addle the mind.
In violent spasms that overtake,
A poisonous ailment we know so well.
It’s desire the mind and heart to break,
to thrust each victim into darkest hell.
Seeping within to our deepest marrow,
This deadliest germ of gut-wrenching pain
Leaving only tears, damp tracks of sorrow,
and craving addiction, left quite insane.
Thus the only hope for a healing cure,
Is cleansing the blood through strong chelation,
To leave each sufferer in his weakness, pure
finally free, in euphoric elation.
And yet to feel cast from heaven above,
Without this beast, the affliction called love.