A Paralyzed Man
A prolific writer inspired by environment and insights. He writes poems and essays and articles.
Prelude
The pain of a paralyzed individual, regardless of its cause, is unfathomable. Many of these paralyzed individuals see and hears everything around, yet cannot respond physically, but what goes inside such a helpless man? Can we truly touch the depth of his agony? Perhaps no single poet or poetry can, yet we try sincerely to empathize, like the materials of the wooden chair that which is probably the closest thing that he cradles him every day.
A Paralyzed Man
The withering phoneme suffocates
In the abyss of his own existence
Drowning beneath the wailing mumbles
It's not a swarm of buzzing bees
Nor the silence of morning breeze
But some unspoken murmuring bubble afloat
On the tears of his two helpless eyes
The armrest cradles the listless arms
Like a mother holding a listless child
The rocking chair awaits every day for an eternity
Not a single motion of agitation
The wooden material talks to the cells of his soul, and yet
The paralyzed man never moves
But oh yes! his tears move – a slowly growing creek
From the canthus of his dwindling eyes
Makes its way to the abyss of his own existence
Adds every day to the briny ocean buried in his chest
The wave never heard or seen
The withering phoneme suffocates
In the abyss of his own existence
Drowning beneath the wailing mumbles
And, unspoken murmuring bubble afloat.
The withering phoneme suffocates
In the abyss of his own existence..
...The paralyzed man never moves
© 2021 Muhammad Mizanur Shuvra