No Man's Land

It is almost no man's (metaphorically) land. Life streamlined by queer rules. Well made human forms hang down from trees and iron bars in lieu of a possible reform. They crawl and creep on fours though God gave them  two limbs intact. They run in circles with a war cry hopeful inspite of repeated humdrum. I join the band wagon, I don't run, I fairly walk or to be precise, I roll down. I roll down in a hurry to accentuate a slumber sure. A place where the head tries to rule the heart but ends up with both being the ruled. I guess the king here must be the adrenal gland.

I  meet variant forms of 'celestial' beings. 'Grrwags' who tries to scare me with faces,gets tired of my passive adamance and finally finds a victim to scoot by. Then 'Giantlocks' initially sweet speaks me soon looms over to decide what I should think,speak and wear. Her great pal ' sicklyrakes' walks in. 'sicklyrakes' thinks he is the best rake available on earth. I sense how sick 'sicklyrakes'can be and more so when "Giantlocks" wanted me to appreciate 'sicklyrake', I scoot fast. Then 'fidgetywigs' walks in. She too vouches for 'sicklyrakes'.I refuse to budge. I shrug away his funny gaze, drug ridden eyes and mush filled sneer of a smile, just as equally I do his deadly glare. They try their best to irk my passive arrogance but I learn to fit them into the funniest images I hold to in my mind.  I retire to my den with my tailed friends who practise civility and loyalty. I define the remnants of a sane self through beings with bushy tails than ones with dormant ones.