Deja Vu Again

The sun hangs low in the western sky. The ocean roils beneath. That red orb seems to hang there forever, Much like our lives, Which are recorded in some secret place. We replay the recording again and again, And each time it seems so real-- Except sometimes a feeling Comes over us. It says, “I have been here before.” Now a cloud bank obscures the sinking sun. The twilight deepens. Like the daylight we all die, And at that moment a recording deep within Says, evacuate, evacuate, evacuate. If we do not heed the voice We rise again in three days And are hailed as saviors. The people eat from our hands Like sheep. The sun sinks lower And darkness descends. Yet the ocean still pounds And the surf sounds louder In the deep twilight. After may replays, Like listening to old classic songs, We grow tired of reliving the life. And night falls like a hammer.