Paranoia In Maktan,1521

Ood Is this sound From not too far afield Like mist Between late dusk and early moonrise Past quarter of six. You might not know It is something unforeseen: Even as I collect the bad habits I bear not to keep Through my sobs, it is that screams. Strange this is, Of what I cannot name in the things I hear: Noise of metals against metals, oft-rhymed sighs And battle cries, each false note of guns and gongs I overheard: these be not It. Is it your footsteps Of where seek? Or the reek of its absence Onto this shore of a bloodbath, That, set my pulse to skip Abeat? Could it be my sweatdrops Like hoofbeats Pattering this tin shield Time of the same? Or, is it just my heart Thumps against my ribcage Which is almost, But not quite, sharp enough to hurt Whose beats howl Nothing but your name? Author's Note: *gong - a large bronze disk, of Asian origin, having an upturned rim, that produces a vibrant, hollow tone when struck, usually with a stick or hammer that has a padded head. P.S The poem is inspired by the Battle of Maktan in 1521 between the Spanish conqueror: Ferdinand Magellan and the fierce Datu of Maktan: Lapu Lapu.