Out-stretched

As the tide goes weeping to it's end
think of me
As the ground swallows itself in dull reflection
think of me
As the stars shine once, and never again
you will think of me

As the sun burns out
and the grass on which you once stood
becomes an icy shadow
I will come for you

As the air thickens
through sound and dust
and the sense of touch becomes unnecessary
I will reach for you

Take my hand
I am waiting